A Burnt Marshmallow
by drwatsonn
Summary: "You're like a burnt marshmallow, y'know? Unappealing and scary on the outside, but soft and gooey on the inside?" I stared at him, not knowing whether I should be flattered or offended, or if he was just drunk. "Well, I'll give you this, Lupin – you sure know how to charm the ladies." If only I had known... (Marauders' Era)
1. Pimply

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **I wrote this at three in the morning, completely disregarding all of the other stories I am currently writing, but eh. This is my attempt at a story that is more lighthearted and written in 1st person, a lot different from my others, so we'll see how this goes!**

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Chapter One: Pimply

"Do you have chips here?"

I looked up from where I standing behind the counter, the latest copy of _Witch Weekly_ in my hands, to see a boy who couldn't have been older than ten staring up at me with wide blue eyes, his expression hopeful.

"Sorry, kid, we only have ice cream here," I said, pointing to the sign hanging in the shop window: _Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour_ , with a very obvious depiction of an ice cream cone floating next to it, but the kid looked obliviously back to me.

"So you don't have any chips?"

I sighed, glancing around the shop and wondering where his parents were, only to look back to him when he put his elbows on the counter, leaning towards me. On instinct, I leaned back, and the boy pouted.

"Look, kid, we have ice cream, and only ice cream," I said as patiently as I could. I had been here for six hours already, and my shift was about to be over, so I really didn't have time for this kid and his stupid questions. "If you want chips, there's a nice little pub down the street called the Leaky Cauldron. Ask for Tom, he'll help you out."

I went back to my magazine, clearly dismissing him, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes when he asked, "So you really don't have any chips?"

"Kid, for the tenth time, _no,_ we don't have any bloody chips—"

"Everything all right out here?"

I grimaced when I heard the voice of Alice Fortescue behind me, the daughter of the owner of the shop, and I turned my head to see her smiling warmly at the boy, though her expression flickered when her eyes met mine.

"He keeps asking me if we have any chips," I explained. "I told him no like, three times, and he's refusing to listen to me—"

"Can I have an ice cream?" the boy piped up, and I whirled around, seeing the kid looking to Alice innocently, and the round-faced girl smiled at him.

"Of course, sweetie," she said. "What kind would you like?"

I swiveled my head back and forth between the two, bewildered.

"But he – I – " I spluttered, gaping when the boy grinned at me triumphantly. _That little shit._

"Raspberry with almonds," he said easily, as if he had ordered the flavor a thousand times, and all I could do was stare as Alice nodded, gesturing to me.

"You got it, dear," she said kindly. "Piper here will get right on that for you."

She looked to me as if daring me to argue, and though I wanted to protest, I swallowed down my retort and nodded stiffly, moving to make the ice cream. Though Alice and I had never gotten along, I didn't want to give her a reason for her dad to fire me, so I had no choice but to bow my head and do what she said, something she would no doubt lord over me as soon as we went back to Hogwarts.

Alice was about to start her seventh and final year at school, while I was only in my sixth, and boy, did she like to point out that fact a lot. I wasn't entirely sure why she disliked me, but if I based her opinions off of everyone else in the school, then I would say that it was because of my friends' – and my – reputation. See, I thought of us as the cool, suave, totally awesome sixth-years, but to everyone else we were "slags," "attention-seekers," and (my personal favorite) "bitches."

"That'll be two Knuts," I said, handing the ice cream cone over to the boy and preparing to open the register, but Alice just shook her head.

"It's on me," she said, waving the boy away. "Enjoy the rest of your day, sweetie."

The boy beamed at Alice, and then stuck his tongue out at me when she wasn't looking, before bouncing out of the store, ice cream already smeared around his mouth.

Closing the register with a sigh, I reached for my magazine again, but Alice snatched it away from me.

"You're still on the clock, Piper," she said reproachfully, rolling the magazine up and wagging it at me. "Save your gossip column for your own time."

I looked around the empty shop skeptically before raising my brows at her. "There's no one in here. What am I supposed to do, stand here and look pretty?"

Alice gave me a dark look before grabbing the broom and dustpan from the corner. "How about sweeping?"

I eyed the cleaning utensils with a grimace before she thrust them into my hands.

"If you've got time to lean, you've got time to clean," she said sweetly, quoting one of the stupid catchphrases her dad always spouted as I walked out to the lobby. "Shame you can't use magic to clean, either," she said, with faux sympathy, twirling her wand between her fingers as she watched me. "I don't know how I coped with things before I was seventeen. It was all just so… _Muggle."_

I grit my teeth, choosing not to respond and continue on with my sweeping. Alice, now seemingly satisfied at the amount of digs she had made at me, whisked to the back (probably to read my magazine), leaving me alone in the empty shop.

Despite the relatively warm summer day, business was slow, but I attributed that to the fact that most people were too busy running around trying to buy last minute school supplies to even think about ice cream. Fortunately, I was in no such rush, having bought my things weeks ago, so I just continued to clean, humming to myself and counting down the minutes until I was off.

Truth be told, I was going to miss working here. Despite Alice's superiority complex, the shop had been a nice reprieve from my usual boring summer holidays home, and I had made a lot of money from doing it, too. The best part, however, had probably been being able to keep up with the rest of the wizarding world for once, instead of being cooped up in my Muggle home all the time. Tomorrow I would be off to Hogwarts again, though, and that left one more year until I would have to be back home before I was gone for good, and that was the lifeline I had been clutching onto since I was eleven.

When some strange lady proclaiming to be Minerva McGonagall had popped onto our doorstep five years ago (and I mean she literally popped out of _thin air)_ and told my parents she was the Deputy Headmistress at some school called Hogwarts, none of us had believed her. Add the fact that apparently I was a witch, and my younger brother was most likely a wizard, and my parents had been prepared to call the police. But she explained everything to us, and for some inexplicable reason, it all made _total sense._

Odd things had always happened around me when I was younger, from accidentally turning my brother's hair pink when he stole my favorite toy to lighting a candle just by thinking about it, and when she had begun explaining why I did the things I did, and who I was, and that there was a school where I would be able to learn more about it all, I was ecstatic.

 _Finally,_ I had a chance of getting out of the mess that was my life. I could escape the shoves and laughter of the kids that had bullied me mercilessly in primary school, I wouldn't have to listen to my dad shouting and my mum crying… I could leave. I could go to a place where I would finally be accepted, and if luck had it, my brother could follow me there one year later.

It had taken a lot of convincing on my parents' part, and to this day, I still don't think they entirely believe it, but they had agreed to let me go. I had gotten a wand, and robes, and textbooks about charms and potions and actual spells, and I had never been happier. Of course, things don't always turn out the way you expect them to be, but five years later I'm still alive and kicking, so that's something, right?

The clock behind the counter rang out that it was four o'clock, and a wheezy voice issued out of a slit near the bottom, announcing, "Shift for Piper Everlark is now complete. Please clock out before leaving for the day."

Well, it didn't have to tell me twice. I put up the broom and dustpan and grabbed my time card, about to punch myself out before I heard the bell above the door ding behind me and footsteps trampled in, followed by loud laughter that made me roll my eyes in annoyance.

Assuming Alice wasn't going to come out to help me, I dropped my card on the table beneath the clock and prepared to turn around, only to freeze when I heard a familiar voice drawl, "Oi, can we get some service, please? It's a scorcher out there."

Taking a deep breath, I turned around with a dazzling smile, enjoying the expression of shock that crossed James Potter's face before it slipped into a scowl. He was flanked perpetually by his stupid mates, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew, and they looked none too happy to see me either as I leaned against the counter.

"And just what can I get you boys today?" I said, still smiling, and Potter appeared like he had half a mind to turn around and walk out before Black scoffed beside him.

"Well, if I had known Pimply was working here I would've suggested somewhere else," he said, sneering at me, and Pettigrew chortled.

"No one's saying you have to buy anything, douchebag," I replied sweetly, and he rolled his eyes.

"C'mon, Sirius, there's a sandwich shop right up the street," Lupin said, his tone utterly bored as he gestured vaguely to the door.

He walked out without waiting for the others, Pettigrew following suit and Black right behind him. Potter cast me one last scathing look before waving. "See ya, Pimply!"

The bell chimed again as the door snapped closed behind them, and I relaxed my grip on the counter, not even realizing how tightly I had been holding it. No matter how many years went by, I knew those boys would never forgive me. I had been marked down as their sworn enemy since I was in first year and they second (only behind Severus Snape and Bertram Aubrey), and they never missed an opportunity to remind me of that (even though my old nickname didn't even count anymore, as my face had long since cleared of any acne).

Sighing, I finally clocked out and stepped out of the shop, feeling sweat already taking form on the back of my neck and under my arms as the sun beat down. This summer was the hottest ever recorded in Britain in over forty years, and it seemed the sun wanted to remind everyone of that fact as the few scant clouds that tried to cover it up were swept away again.

I walked to the corner of the shop and unchained my bicycle from where I locked it against one of the water pipes jutting out of the building before climbing on and taking off down the street, the slight breeze conjured by the movement smoothing my hair out of my face and offering some reprieve from the stifling heat.

I pedaled towards the Leaky Cauldron before hopping off and walking my bike inside, careful to avoid hitting any patrons with it as I made my way toward the alley and the brick wall that would take me back to the Muggle side of London.

I passed the bar and waved to Tom, who gave me a gap-toothed smile and a nod in return, before I was out the other door and in the alleyway. A gaggle of wizards were entering from the other side, dressed in poorly mismatched Muggle clothes, and they appeared to be in deep discussion, though one of them kindly held his arm out to keep the bricks from sliding back into place and allowing me to go through without having to use my wand to tap the wall open again.

"Thanks," I said hastily, pushing my bike past the group and heading for the opening, my ears snatching on bits of their conversation as I walked past.

"—I'm telling you, Bert, that bridge collapse down in Kent wasn't a Muggle construction malfunction—"

One of the wizards dressed in a polka-dotted raincoat and matching boots scoffed openly.

"'Course it was, Hector, those Muggles never know what they're doin' half the time," he retorted.

"The only explanation is Death Eaters!" Another whispered harshly. "You-Know-Who is behind this – we can't stop lying to ourselves about this menace—"

"That's enough, Scotty!" The first wizard growled, his narrow-eyed gaze sliding over to me and seeing me staring at them with wide eyes. "C'mon," he growled, pushing them inside the pub, "let's talk in here."

I hurried out the opening before the bricks slid back into place, my chest feeling strangely tight as I entered back into the Muggle world, the sudden rush of honking automobiles and chattering people not quite permeating my brain, everyone walking by me as if I had been there the whole time and hadn't just appeared on the street a few seconds ago.

The uneasiness that had come over me as I got back on my bike and began pedaling down the street hadn't subsided since I left the wizards behind, and I couldn't help the small shiver that went down my spine as I recalled their conversation.

It was common knowledge in the wizarding world that there was a war brewing, a war between those who valued "pure" wizards with all magical blood over those with only half or those of Muggle descent, like me. The leader who fronted it was a powerful enemy spoken about only by using the monikers 'You-Know-Who' or 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.' Even though I wasn't entirely invested in the happenings going on in the wizarding world, hearing about the tension and fear that was rapidly spreading amongst the magical community was still unsettling.

Pushing all thoughts of Death Eaters and You-Know-Who out of my mind, I continued on my way home, entirely certain of one thing amidst all this madness: nothing bad would happen to me, or my brother, or my family. We were safe.

But I couldn't help the little voice in the back of my mind that whispered: _but what if you're not?_

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 **Just a little teaser. Not sure if I'm going to continue it yet considering all of my other projects, but we'll see.**

 **But in any case, please review and let me know what you think!**

 **xx**


	2. In Which I Hex Sirius Black

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **I'm back! I was pleasantly surprised by the response this fic got, so I thought I'd go ahead and get chapter two posted for y'all!**

 **Thanks for all the faves/follows so far, and thank you to my first reviewers: camika, Cae-Leigh Anne, heroherondaletotherescue, Les Spring Hamilton, and Guest!**

 **Also, in response to Guest's review: Piper is in sixth year, while the Marauders, Lily, etc., are in their seventh year. Sorry if I didn't make that clear enough in the first chapter, but thank you for asking! xx**

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Chapter Two: In Which I Hex Sirius Black

Look, I didn't want to hex Sirius Black, I really didn't. In fact, I tried to avoid him as much as possible, seeing as he was an arrogant prick most of the time. Scratch that, actually – _all_ the time. But the bloke had been asking for it for years now, ever since he had pegged me in the face with a blue water balloon when I was a first year and he second. It had been humiliating and damaging to my fragile reputation as the cool eleven-year-old who had died a chunk of her bangs red (to symbolize the color of my House, naturally) as you can tell by my memorization of the damned color of the balloon.

I try to keep my temper, but something about Black replaces my brain with a vengeful chainsaw, and that's usually how I end up in detention. It's hard to stay out of trouble though when you're diagnosed with a very extreme case of Chainsaw-Brain Syndrome, which is also how I was slapped with a detention as soon as I set foot into Hogwarts after getting off the train. That detention was also courtesy of the tattle-tale princess, Lily Evans, and her pristine nose not being able to stay out of other people's business (especially when said business involved any sort of rule-breaking). What a great way to kick off sixth year, right?

Up until the hexing incident, the morning of September the first had been going about as well as it always did – which was bad. I hadn't even been awake for twenty minutes and already Mum had burned the toast, Archie was running around the house trying to find his trainers, and Dad had come out of the bedroom twice to yell about all the noise we were making.

You know, just your typical pre-first day of school things.

"Piper, get out of the shower already!" Archie shouted, pounding on the door with his fist and disrupting my peaceful conditioning ritual as I glared in the direction of the door. "What are you doing, shaving your pubes?"

"Sod off, Archie!" I snapped, rinsing the last of the conditioner from my hair before shutting off the shower and grabbing my towel. "You'll get your turn to jerk it to Mafalda Hopkirk's boobs in a second!"

I could hear him spluttering from the other side of the door.

"I don't – Mafalda Hopkirk's boobs aren't even that nice!" he protested, and I rolled my eyes. "They're like, deformed little melons or something—"

"Oh, good grief, Archie, no wonder why you can't get a girlfriend," I said scathingly, plucking at my eyebrows to make sure they were in top form. "Is that how you talk about girls? By describing their boobs as 'deformed little melons?'"

"Just hurry up!" he snapped. "We have an hour before we have to leave!"

"Fine," I huffed, grabbing my packed toiletry bag and swinging open the door to reveal an impatient Archie, his black hair tangled into a wild nest on top of his head and his morning breath almost making me keel over. "Bathroom's yours. Try not to turn it into a nuclear waste zone, yeah?"

"Shove off, Piper," he griped, slamming the door behind him, and I shouted, "Don't forget to brush your teeth, either! Mafalda Hopkirk is gonna run screaming if you come at her with that breath!"

I heard him grumble something very unflattering from the other side of the door, before the shower switched on again and I traipsed down the hall to my bedroom, my wet hair slapping against my back.

Drying off the excess water, I sat down at the small wooden vanity I had had ever since I could remember, the white paint peeling off in certain places and several of the drawers sporting crooked or entirely broken handles. I combed out my long hair, disgruntled to see that it was already beginning to frizz, and I pawed through the top drawer until I pulled out a tube of cream that would help keep the curls in place without having to worry about my hair becoming a mane.

After slapping on some makeup and donning one of my best outfits (I had a reputation to maintain, all right? I wasn't about to show up looking like some slob on the Hogwarts Express), I threw all of my toiletries on top of my trunk before running a mental checklist and shutting it with some difficulty. I had never been a savvy packer, and tended to bring a lot more than what I actually needed, but it's better to be overly prepared than under, right?

Satisfied that I was ready and had everything (I didn't have to worry about an owl or anything, thank God; we had always been too poor to afford one, so Archie and I had to rely on the school owls to communicate with our parents – and good riddance. I had smelled some of my friends' cages over the years, and _wow,_ did they stink), I dragged my trunk down the stairs and set it in front of the door before making my way into the cramped yellow kitchen.

"Where's Archie?" Mum fretted, sparing me a peck on the cheek as she slid a plate of (thankfully) unburned toast and marmalade in front of me, and I gestured vaguely upstairs, taking a gulp from my orange juice.

"Probably still packing," I said. "You know how much he procrastinates."

"Both of you procrastinate to the point of giving me heart problems," she retorted, glancing to the stairs anxiously. "Finish your toast; I'm going to see if he needs any help."

I rolled my eyes as she went upstairs, continuing to eat. Even though Archie was only a year younger than me, Mum still acted like he was a baby, and it was enough to make me want to throw back up my toast.

On that note, though, let me tell you a little bit about my mother.

Her name is Ella Everlark, and if you'd seen her, you would swear she was my older sister or something. She's incredibly young, and stunningly pretty, which is how she had captured the attention of my dad when she was a waitress at the pub he used to frequent in his university days. The rest you can probably figure out: they fell in love, ran away together, had me when she was eighteen and he was twenty-one, and got married. The love story every girl dreams about, yeah?

See, the thing about those love stories is that they're just that – stories. They don't go into the reality of a life like that, and the consequences it can have. After my brother was born, their marriage started to fall apart. Dad couldn't find a stable job in the rough economy, and Mum didn't have the proper schooling to find a decent one. Things got hard, money got scarce, and they began to stress. That stress led to bickering; bickering became fighting; fighting became screaming; screaming turned into week-long silences that weighed on us like a suffocating blanket, and soon, they couldn't even stand to be in the same room as each other. Dad eventually found a job, but alcohol became his new wife, and Mum…well, she didn't really do much about it. She just took care of me and Archie, and when we were at school, she attended night classes to get a better education, and spent her days as a waitress at the local restaurant a few blocks from home. Life went on in our disjointed family.

I have vague memories of all of us being an actual family once. How every Sunday we would go to the park and have picnics, and Dad would give us pieces of bread to feed the ducks in the pond while Mum sat back and watched, snapping pictures of us on her camera. Or how every Christmas we would all wake up at the crack of dawn and sit in front of the fireplace, drinking hot cocoa while we all exchanged stocking stuffers. They were little things, but they were like the glue holding all of us together. And when Professor McGonagall had come…well, it was like that glue dissolved. We hadn't been the same since.

Of course, I would never blame my brother and I being a wizard and a witch for the rift that had formed in our little family. Finding out I was a witch and starting Hogwarts had been the best news of my life, and I didn't regret any of it. But sometimes I couldn't help but wonder what would've happened had me and Archie been just Muggles. It was a stupid thought, I know, but it was one of those that grabbed hold of you at night and refused to let you go until you had played out every possibility that came with it. It was exhausting.

I finished my toast and juice and took my dishes to the sink, washing them slowly and biding my time until Archie and Mum came back down. I glanced to the clock hanging above the sink and saw that it was close to being 10:30, and I cringed; despite living in close proximity to King's Cross, I knew we were pushing it, even by Everlark standards. No sooner had I thought it then Archie came bounding down the stairs, dragging his trunk so it hit every step with a heavy thud, and Mum appeared behind him, flapping her hands and shooing him toward the kitchen.

"Good heavens, look at the time!" she moaned. "The cab is waiting! Archie, you're going to have to get something from the trolley, dear, we don't have time – Piper, move your trunk out of the way, honey, we need to go—"

"What about Dad?" Archie asked, as he pulled on a jumper. "Isn't he coming, too?"

I snorted, butting in before Mum could make up another lame excuse for him. "Since when does he ever come with us, Arch?" I said. "He'd rather sit on his arse than do anything nice for us—"

"That's enough, Piper," Mum said, her blue eyes flashing warningly. "Please, just get your trunk and let's get to the cab."

Archie shot me a glare before stalking out of the small house, dragging his trunk along the sidewalk as he headed for the cab waiting to take us to the station. I rolled my eyes at his back; it wasn't my fault he was upset that Dad wasn't coming, but I decided not to push the subject further as Mum and I followed him out, the cab driver helping us load our things into the trunk.

"Jesus, you kids going to Mars or somethin'?" He laughed at his own joke as we clambered into the cab, the three of us squishing in the back as he pulled into the busy intersection.

"Nah, the mental asylum, actually," I said sarcastically, watching the traffic around us. "It always has vacancies for the criminally insane, like us."

"Will you shut up?" Archie snapped, shooting me a poisonous look. "You're not funny, so stop acting like it."

I gaped at him, mock-offended. "Why, Archie! I never took you as one to be so cruel to an upstanding lady like myself—"

"Sod off," he grumbled, and Mum reached over me and pinched his arm, causing him to scowl and bat her hand away.

"Language, young man!" she admonished, and he rolled his eyes when she couldn't see, going back to staring out the window moodily. Ah, the stench of teen angst.

"Here we are," the driver said, pulling to a stop outside of King's Cross a few minutes later. "I'll be waitin' around a few more minutes in case you need a ride back, little lady." He winked at my mum, puffing on his cigarette, and she gave him an uncomfortable smile as we filed out.

"That won't be necessary," she said, paying him the fare and a tip while his cigarette drooped in disappointment. "But thank you for the offer."

After that, the driver looked a lot less enthused as he helped us unload our trunks, and as soon as we found a trolley he took off back into the London traffic, Mum sighing as we headed into the station.

It was packed, as usual, but we hurried along, anyway, the clock reading that it was 10:51. The Hogwarts Express was set to leave at eleven, and we were nearly jogging by the time we reached the wall separating platforms 9 and 10.

"Have a great term, my dears," Mum said, kissing each of us on the cheek before ushering us forward. "And don't forget to write! I love you both!"

"Bye, Mum," Archie said, giving her a last wave before running for the wall and disappearing in the blink of an eye. I turned around, meeting my mum's eyes as she gave me a tight smile.

"Go on, Piper," she said. "You don't want to miss the train."

I stepped forward and gave her a hug, trying to squeeze all of my emotion out in that one embrace.

"Mum, do you remember what I told you at the beginning of this summer?" I asked her seriously, watching her forehead crease and her lips purse as she thought. "About the bad men, and what's going on in the wizarding world?"

"You mean the violence against us," she recalled, her expression turning worried. "Or, Muggles. People like me and your father."

I nodded slowly. "Right. But not just Muggles. Magical people who have Muggle parents – they're called Muggle-borns, y'know, people like me – they're being targeted, too. So…be careful, all right? And if you or Dad hear or see anything strange happening, write me, you hear? I can tell Professor Dumbledore – the headmaster, remember, one of the most powerful wizards we have? He'll know what to do. Just promise me you'll be safe, okay?"

"Piper—" she said, her blue eyes filled with concern, but I shook my head. "Mum, please. Promise me."

She searched my face for a few moments, and I wondered what we looked like to other people right then. Two women, almost identical, staring each other down in a crowded train station, one of them pale and anxious, and the other one solemn, her body tense. Finally, she nodded, and I gave her a tiny smile.

"I promise, my love," she whispered, clutching me tightly to her as I hugged her again. "Be safe, and have fun this year, all right? All things considering. I love you, sweetie."

"I love you, too, Mum." I pulled away, kissing her cheek lightly before grabbing the trolley again. "See you at Christmas!"

She waved as I jogged toward the barrier, and I tried not to feel like it was my final farewell to her before I shut my eyes and suddenly found myself on Platform 9 ¾, the scarlet steam engine billowing smoke in front of me as a detached voice announced that it would be departing the station in three minutes.

The platform was nearly empty, most of the students having already boarded and leaving first-time parents clogging the pathway, waving to their children aboard the train. I wheedled my way through them, searching for a compartment with some acquaintances so I could get on before I heard someone calling my name.

"Piper! Piper Everlark! Over here!"

I turned my trolley in the direction of the sound and felt a grin spread over my mouth as two of my best friends, Dorcas Meadowes and Emmeline Vance, sprinted toward me, looking quite relieved as they enveloped me in a tight, flowery-scented group hug.

"Merlin, I thought you were going to miss the train!" Dorcas exclaimed, shoving my shoulder as I laughed. "And that is _so_ not funny, Pipes!"

"'Course it is," I said, sticking my tongue out at her as we began to head back the way they had come. "Means Mummy Dor-Dor was worried about me!"

"Gross," she said, giving my tongue a distasteful look. "Just be glad Em and I were actually looking for you."

"What took you so long, anyway?" Emmeline asked, helping me wheel the trolley toward their compartment, and I snorted.

"Archie," I said, and that was all the answer they needed as they both made faces. My brother was infamous amongst Gryffindor House for being a little git, and they were all too familiar with his antics as a compartment door swung out in front of us.

"There you are," came an exasperated voice, and I looked up to see my other best friend and dorm mate, Becca Crouch, gazing down at us imperiously. "Hurry up; the train's about to leave!"

"All right, all right, keep your hair on," Dorcas said, waving her hand as all three of us attempted to haul my trunk into the compartment. It took a few tries, but we eventually got it in there and stowed it away, shutting the door just as the train whistle blew and we began to lug out of the station.

"Now that _all_ of us are here," Dorcas began, shaking out her thick hair, "I'd like to congratulate all of us for making it to sixth year!"

We all cheered, and I slung an arm around Emmeline's neck as she ruffled my curls, laughing.

"I hope you brought something to back up that celebratory statement," Becca said shrewdly, smirking when Dorcas brought out a small pink flask from her bag.

"I'm not even gonna ask how you managed to sneak that aboard," Emmeline said, reaching for the flask and opening it, the scent of Ogden's Best Firewhiskey hitting my nose and making my eyes water.

Emmeline took a swig, passing it to me as Dorcas shrugged, examining her fingernails. "I have my ways, Em, let's leave it at that."

I took a small sip, the liquor burning my throat as I passed it on to Becca, who took an enormous gulp before handing it back to Dorcas, who drained the rest of it before putting it away.

"So, first order of business," Becca said, clapping her hands together. "How was everyone's holiday? Any cute boys? Or girls?" She nudged Dorcas's shoulder playfully and the other girl swatted her away, though a pink hue had colored her bronze cheeks.

"There _was_ a very nice Spanish girl…" Dorcas mused. "Too bad she didn't swing that way, though."

We all groaned sympathetically, and Emmeline shook her head. "I find that hard to believe," she said. "The goddess herself, Dorcas Meadowes, couldn't snag someone she wanted? There's no hope for any of us!"

She fell dramatically into my lap, and I shoved her off, laughing. "Oh, whatever will we do?"

"And what about you, Buxom Beauty?" Dorcas asked me, and I rolled my eyes at the nickname she had given me in fourth year when it became apparent that I was the bustier one out of the group. "How many boys did you have dangling off your arms this summer?"

I shrugged nonchalantly, brushing some loose curls off of my neck. "Not a lot, actually." When they all gave me skeptical looks, I rolled my eyes. "Seriously. I didn't have any time to lounge about on Spanish beaches or take romantic walks in the moonlight in Amsterdam. I had work all the time."

"How was that, by the way?" Emmeline asked, forever the curious one as she studied me with her dark eyes. "I bet Fortescue was a nightmare."

"She wasn't too bad," I said, thinking back to all of my encounters with Alice. "She usually tended to ignore me, unless she was bored. Then she would just talk about how great it was to legally use magic outside of school and how much she missed her boyfriend."

They all shuddered at this, and Becca sniffed disdainfully. "Why anyone would ever willingly date a Longbottom is beyond me."

This launched the topic of who was the most eligible bachelor (or, in Dorcas's case, bachelorette) Hogwarts had to offer, but I tuned out the discussion after a while, not much interested in it. I had dated my fair share of guys before, but conversations like these always bored me to death. As far as I could tell, no one was worth dating or hooking up with at Hogwarts, and it was a great relief when Becca announced that the trolley was coming.

"Thank God," I muttered, grabbing my small sack of wizard money and following my friends out into the corridor and heading for the cluster of students surrounding the trolley.

Becca and Dorcas pushed their way through the younger students, leaving Emmeline and I to follow in their wake, as both of them were exceedingly tall and scary-looking, with Dorcas's signature bitch-face and Becca's heavy eyeliner and multiple piercings.

I grabbed up two Licorice Wands and a Pumpkin Pasty, handing over a few coins to the lady running the trolley and thanking her before making my way back to my waiting friends. We had only taken a few steps before a sickeningly arrogant voice shouted behind us, and we all turned with a collective groan.

"Well, look who it is!" Sirius Black was shoving his way through the poor younger students now, his finely-sculpted face chiseled into a sneer and his grey eyes twinkling mischievously. "Pimply, Amazon, Pupils, and Freak, all together again!"

A shrill giggle followed his description of us, and I turned my glare on the seventh-year Marlene McKinnon, with Alice Fortescue, Mary MacDonald, and the bane of my existence, Lily Evans, standing behind her. I saw the other three Marauders following behind them, and I internally groaned as I realized just how awful this situation was about to become.

"Piss off, Black," Becca snapped, but Black's grin only widened.

"Aw, c'mon, Freak, didn't you miss me?" he said. "Lovely new piercing, by the way; did you get that because it reminded you of your true bull form?"

Becca automatically reached for her septum ring, her pale face flaming red as Dorcas stepped in front of her protectively.

"Don't you have something better to do, Black?" she said. "Why don't you and Potter go play with each other's dicks or something?"

"Ooh, did you hear that, Prongs?" Black said gleefully, as Potter ambled over to him. "Amazon thinks we're gay for each other!"

Potter cast them all an unimpressed look before turning his stare on Dorcas. "Seems like Amazon just wishes someone else would join her pride club," he said dismissively, and I clenched my fists when McKinnon and the other girls choked on their laughter.

"Eat shit, Potter," I snapped, pushing the fuming Dorcas and mortified Becca back down the corridor to our compartment. "C'mon, Em. Let's not waste any more time on these bigots."

Emmeline followed after me reluctantly, shooting them all a last rude hand gesture as they all laughed behind us.

"Wow, that's a big word, Pimply!" Black scoffed. "Did you learn that from shagging Bertram Aubrey last year?"

I froze in my tracks, turning to face Black slowly, a sort of dull ringing in my ears. "What did you say?"

"Surprised?" He sneered at me as I stared at him, my eyes never once leaving his stupid smirking face. "C'mon, we all know how you managed to pass your OWLs; because little Miss Perfect has to get everything she wants, even if it means sleeping her way to the top."

I couldn't believe this was happening. I couldn't believe he was saying all of this to _me._ My vision tunneled until it was just me and him, my brain barely registering when Remus Lupin shoved Black roughly, saying, "Leave her alone, Padfoot. Stop being a fucking git."

I didn't know when my wand had gotten into my hand, but suddenly it was there, and the whole corridor seemed to crackle with intensity as I never once took my gaze off of Black.

It all happened in a blur after that.

I don't remember casting the hex, but suddenly there were bats flying all around Black's face and attacking him while my wand was blasted out of my hand, and I vaguely remember Lupin pointing his own at me before chaos erupted.

The younger students started screaming and trampling back to their compartments, and Marlene McKinnon and the other girls were desperately trying to dispel the hex from Black while Evans ranted in the background, saying how she was Head Girl and how she hoped Professor McGonagall would expel me for this, and the other Marauders were trying to help Black stand, Potter yelling curses at me while Lupin just stared at me, something like an apology written in his gaze.

And there it was, folks: the story of how I singlehandedly took out Sirius Black and landed myself in detention, all before we even set foot in Hogwarts!

Jesus, it was going to be a long year.

* * *

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	3. McGonagall is Done with My Shit

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **There's something about rainy days that just makes me so motivated to write. It's so weird, but I'm definitely not complaining.**

 **Anyway, thanks for all the new faves/follows this story has gotten, and thank you to my reviewers from last time: Les Spring Hamilton, Cae-Leigh Anne, heroherondaletotherescue, camika, Manger, and Anon (Guest)! Glad y'all are liking the story so far!**

* * *

Chapter Three: McGonagall is Done with My Shit

I knew I was in for it as soon as I saw Professor McGonagall.

Besides holding the illustrious titles of Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration professor, she also held the personal one of 'Scariest Witch Alive' in my book. From what I figured, she was somewhere in her late thirties or early forties (I couldn't be entirely sure, though; wizarding folk had a penchant for living longer than regular Muggles – I mean, look at Professor Dumbledore. The guy looked like he had been dragged out of a tomb from the fifteenth century, but he was still upright and kicking some serious arse. Wizards, you know?) but her eyes made you feel like she was some all-knowing, mighty and wise being that just really liked doling out detentions.

She was standing in the Entrance Hall when we first walked in through the grand double doors, wearing her customary emerald robes and signature scowl that told me I was already done for. My eyes narrowed when I saw Lily Evans standing some feet behind her shoulder, obviously having just finished relaying my horrible attack upon Black, and she gave me the tiniest of smirks as McGonagall's sharp eyes landed on me.

"Miss Everlark," she called over the clamor of excited students rushing to get into the Great Hall, and I grimaced. "A word before the start-of-term feast, if you'd please."

A lot of curious looks were thrown in my direction from the students in the vicinity, but I ignored them, only nodding at the professor and trying not to turn tail and run away screaming.

"You got this," Dorcas said in a low voice, and Emmeline squeezed my shoulder in reassurance.

"If I don't make it back, write my mum for me," I said. "Tell her I love her. And kick Archie in the bollocks one last time. He's a git."

Dorcas nodded seriously. "You have our word," she said, and Emmeline and Becca nodded.

"C'mon, girls," Becca said, her cold green eyes fixed upon the giggling group of Lily Evans and her seventh year cronies as they filed into the Great Hall. "We have a score to settle with some bitches."

After one last encouraging nod, they stalked into the Great Hall, the other students giving them a wide berth as I swallowed down my fear and headed to where McGonagall was standing waiting for me.

"This way," she said, gesturing for me to follow her down the corridor to where her office was. As many times as I had been there before, I knew I shouldn't be nervous, but something about the way the professor was walking in front of me, not saying anything, was making me unsettled.

We reached her office and she led me in, where I immediately plopped myself down on one of her velvet armchairs and waited as she sat behind her desk, placing a pair of square-rimmed spectacles on her nose that made her look like Madam Pince, our librarian, except not quite as evil.

"Well, Miss Everlark, I'm sure you know why you're here," she began, her voice somewhat resigned underneath her sternness. "I was just informed by Miss Evans that you had taken it upon yourself to, ah… _handle_ Mr. Black on the train here?"

"I did, Professor," I said, picking at a loose thread on my skirt and not exactly meeting her eyes.

"Well, now, I have already heard Miss Evans' judgement of the situation, and I will be speaking to Mr. Black separately after the feast, so I find it prudent to understand your version of events," she said, staring at me over the rims of her spectacles and making me squirm in my seat.

I told her everything, though, from Black's rude jab at Becca to his insult to me, leaving out the part about how he had accused me of cheating on my OWLs; that was something that didn't need to be shared with a teacher. I finished with telling her how Lupin had blasted my wand out of my hand before the situation got any further, and she pursed her lips when I was done, her face set into an unreadable mask.

"Despite some varying differences, I can agree that your story and Miss Evans' are roughly the same," she said, and I had to refrain from making a face. "However, I will remind you that hexing another student is very deeply frowned upon, Miss Everlark." Like I needed the reminder. Her own frown was enough to go by as she looked at me sternly. "I'm afraid that I will have to give you detention."

I nodded, having already accepted my fate. However, it seemed that fate had something entirely different in mind when next she spoke.

"Unfortunately, with your record, I feel that such menial tasks as scrubbing bedpans and polishing trophies would continue to have very little effect on you," she said, and my head snapped up in confusion at this.

"What do you mean, Professor?" I asked, and she sighed at my question, removing her spectacles and lacing her fingers together before her.

"You were once a model student, Miss Everlark," she said, and I started at her unexpected statement, my brows furrowing. "One of the top five in your class; never late, never absent, homework turned in on time." She stared me down as she talked, and I couldn't help but to feel a little bit guilty, for she was right.

"Your behavior over the years has become problematic," she continued seriously, and I listened anxiously. "Your grades have slipped – not drastically, but noticeably; you show up late to lessons or not at all, and seem to have taken on a penchant of bullying other students."

I gaped at her, shocked. "What?"

Professor McGonagall frowned at me, as if annoyed I had even stated my disbelief. "You are a teenage girl, Miss Everlark; it is natural to form cliques with other students you identify with, but you, Miss Meadowes, Miss Vance, and Miss Crouch all seem to have a particularly strong bond that fortifies itself on bad behavior."

I listened in stunned silence, not sure how to react. Like, I knew the girls and I weren't the best people out there, but we were loads better than most of those pureblood-touting Slytherins, weren't we? At least we weren't racist pricks and discriminated people based on their blood status. I mean, come on; I was a Muggle-born, Becca was a pureblood, and Dorcas and Emmeline were both half-bloods. We were practically the poster children for blood diversity! But apparently Professor McGonagall didn't seem to think so.

"In addition to a week's worth of writing lines with me, I have decided to utilize some corrective measures that should help you and your attitude in the future," she said, and instantly a tight ball of dread filled my gut. "In order for this to be effective, I must ask you to choose an extracurricular activity outside of your classes that you will be enrolled in for the rest of this term; this way, you will have an opportunity to work with peers outside of your friend group, and learn valuable skills such as communication and collaboration with your fellow students."

I was speechless. Not only was I getting handed a week's worth of detentions, but now Professor McGonagall was making me sign up for a _club?_ Learn valuable skills my _arse._ She had to be joking. This was practically unheard of!

"Er…" I struggled to think of an argument that could get me out of this mess without coming off as super disrespectful and whiny, but it was hard. I knew that no amount of flattery was going to work on the strict witch.

"Do you have an objection, Miss Everlark?" she asked, her eyebrows raised dangerously high, and I knew she was expecting me to fight her on this. "If so, I will be more than happy to up your punishment to a month and let Professor Dumbledore decide what to do about your behavior in the meantime."

I blanched at the mention of the headmaster. Even though everyone knew that Professor Dumbledore was most likely off his rocker, he was still a formidable wizard, and I had no inclination for him to dabble in my affairs. I shook my head wordlessly at Professor McGonagall, and she gave me a thin-lipped smile in return.

"Very well," she said, reaching into her desk and drawing out a slip of parchment paper, which she handed to me. I took the paper and looked down to it, seeing a list of all the extracurricular clubs Hogwarts had to offer and feeling something heavy settle on my chest. "I will not ask you to choose one at this very moment, but I expect you to have an activity chosen tomorrow when I see you in my class."

I nodded numbly, not knowing what else to say. Professor McGonagall stood up from her desk, and I did the same, clutching the list in my hands as she gestured me out of the office. "You may return to the feast and join your fellow Housemates. I myself must be present for the Sorting Ceremony that will begin shortly."

We walked in an uncomfortable silence back to the Entrance Hall, where I saw a cluster of nervous first years shuffling around and waiting for Professor McGonagall. One boy with sleek black hair and a narrow face pointed to me as I walked past, whispering something to another boy standing next to him that caused him to look at me in amazement, much to my annoyance and confusion.

I glared at them as I passed, and luckily they had the sense to drop their gazes and turn away as I slipped into the Great Hall. The large room was filled with chatter and laughter when I entered, the floating candles casting a golden glow on a warm and welcoming scene as the stars glittered above in the enchanted ceiling. I went unnoticed mostly as I walked down the row separating the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, searching for a sign of my friends, but I could tell I was garnering some attention from the way most of the seventh year Gryffindors were giving me death glares, and some of the other students were casting me disdainful looks, the news about my assault on Black obviously having already traveled.

I found the girls sitting near the middle of the table, fortunately far enough away from any hostiles so I didn't have to worry about getting jinxed in the middle of dinner. I knew I was going to have to lie low for a few days, though, if Black's fan club had any say in the matter. Those girls were crazy enough to do just about anything to gain his approval, which often left my friends and I prime targets for their antics over the years.

"She's alive!" Dorcas announced dramatically as I sat down, and I flashed them all a tiny grin as the taller girl swung an arm around me in a brief hug. "What's the damage done this time?"

"A week's worth of lines with McG," I said, and all three made disgusted faces while Becca mimed gagging into her empty goblet.

"Well, that's not too bad," Emmeline said, wrapping a lock of her silky dark hair around her finger. "What's that?"

She was pointing to the list McGonagall had given me that was still in my hands, and I turned it over and showed them, watching their brows furrow and their mouths slide into frowns. "The other part of my punishment. Apparently McGonagall is done with my shit and wants me to take an extracurricular to 'improve my behavior.'"

"Blimey," Becca remarked, raising her brows. "That's awful."

"Just join Quidditch," Dorcas said. "Em could probably vouch for you, and you could be a manager for the team or something."

I made a face at this, even before Emmeline shook her head quickly.

"There's no way that could happen," she said, and we all looked to her curiously as she grimaced. "Potter's been made Captain this year; he'd never let her."

"Of course he's Captain," Becca groaned, rolling her eyes. "Just something else that will inflate his ego to the size of the Eiffel Tower."

"That's not all," Emmeline said, suddenly looking very nervous as we all looked to her questioningly. "Remember how Evans said she made Head Girl?"

"I don't think anyone could forget after how many times she screamed it on the train," I said, wincing, and Dorcas nodded in agreement.

"Well, er, Potter's Head Boy, too," Emmeline said, and if I'd been drinking pumpkin juice right then, I would've spit it out in shock.

 _"_ _What?"_ Dorcas exclaimed, outraged. "Is Dumbledore out of his _mind?"_

"Potter…Head Boy?" Becca said, as if trying to put two-and-two together, and I folded my arms and put my head down on them, groaning.

"This is going to be the worst year ever," I moaned, already imagining the kind of horrors the Marauders would do to me now that Head Boy Potter and Prefect Lupin were working together. I'd be dead before Christmas.

Fortunately, we didn't get to bemoan our fates further, for just then Professor Dumbledore stood up from his chair at the staff table and an instant hush fell over the hall, all eyes expectantly turning to the headmaster.

"Let us begin the Sorting Ceremony!" he announced, and there was a smattering of applause as the great doors opened and the first years began to tramp in, led by Professor McGonagall, who was carrying the tattered Sorting Hat and a banged up stool in her hands that she set down at the very front of the hall, facing everyone.

After a few moments, a rip near the brim of the hat opened up, and a wheezing voice began to issue out of the seam, belting out a song that made the first years look petrified as it sang.

 _"_ _Oh, I may not see so well,_

 _And you may think me old,_

 _But listen to what you're about to be told!_

 _For I still hear your thoughts clear as a bell!_

 _You may not know where to go,_

 _Your hearts undecided and wary,_

 _But have a seat, don't feel so low!_

 _For I know where you belong, and there's no need to tarry!_

 _Your golden heart may roar for Gryffindor,_

 _Where dwell those with bravery, chivalry, and nerve,_

 _Or perhaps in dear old Hufflepuff,_

 _Where kindness, patience, and hard work are observed!_

 _But let's not forget wise and witty Ravenclaw,_

 _Where learning and drive shape the mind,_

 _And last but not least wily old Slytherin,_

 _Where you might join that ambitious and cunning kind!_

 _So give me a go, let me have a peek,_

 _For undoubtedly I know exactly what you seek!"_

The hat finished its song to enthusiastic applause, and when the whistling and clapping faded away, Professor McGonagall unrolled her scroll of names and began the Sorting with "Aviles, Stephanie!"

I tuned out the rest of the Sorting after that, staring at the empty golden plate before me and wishing the food would appear already so I could eat. Those sweets I had eaten on the train seemed like a lifetime away, and I nearly cried when Professor McGonagall read off the last name ("Yarborough, Caden") and Professor Dumbledore stood back up, raising a hand for silence.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" he said, and everyone cheered as he gazed out at us from behind his half-moon spectacles, his silver hair and beard seeming to glow in the candlelight. "Now, before we begin our feast, I have a few words I would like to say: bibble, winklepicker, and oxter! Thank you!"

He sat down again, and immediately food and drink appeared before us, and I dug in, ravenous. I thought about what I had told my mum in the station, how Professor Dumbledore would know what to do if anything happened, and I wondered what she would have thought had she just been here to witness his bizarre announcement. I smiled to myself at the thought, quashing down the worry that had appeared when I thought about her alone in the Muggle world and scooping an obscene amount of scalloped potatoes into my mouth instead.

I tried to enjoy the rest of the night, momentarily pushing aside all worries of my mum, my looming punishment, and Sirius Black's revenge on me until tomorrow, when all hell would break loose.

* * *

The day was going smoothly. Too smoothly.

I'd been through enough first days at Hogwarts to be used to them by now, but the routine feeling of classes and reviews wasn't what was making me suspicious. It'd been nearly twenty-hour hours, and still Sirius Black hadn't made any attempt to attack, prank, or otherwise maim me in any way, and needless to say, I was pretty on-edge.

Of course, classes weren't the problem. Since he was a year above me, it was guaranteed we wouldn't have any lessons together, but I still found myself looking over my shoulder and keeping my eyes peeled during walks in the corridors in between classes. But so far, my luck had held, though I made sure not to get too complacent. I knew from past altercations that Black liked to strike when people were least expecting it, and I wouldn't be caught off my guard…again.

I was sitting at my desk in Transfiguration, doodling on a strip of parchment I had found while I waited for the bell to ring, simultaneously dreading it and wishing for it at the same time. Professor McGonagall had already given us our syllabus for the term, and we had finished our review early, so it was only a matter of time until she called me up to her desk to see which activity I had chosen.

I had made up my mind about which one I was going to do last night before I went to bed, yet for some reason I was still nervous to give her my answer. The thought of actually joining the club was making me antsy, and I hadn't even told her yet! I didn't know how I was going to survive this year, in all honesty. It just seemed like everything was working against me so far.

The sudden noise of a chair scraping to my left made me jump, and I accidentally punched a hole through my parchment paper with my quill at the sound, whirling around into the face of my fellow sixth year Gryffindor and long-time friend Benjy Fenwick, who gave me a mischievous grin at my reaction.

"Scared I was Black coming to jinx you?" he teased, and I rolled my eyes, crumpling up my parchment and throwing it at him as he laughed.

"Please, Black wouldn't stop at just a jinx," I retorted, leaning back in my seat and crossing my arms. "He'd thoroughly embarrass me first, _then_ he'd jinx me."

Benjy shrugged, scratching at the blond stubble on his chin that made him look older somehow. "True. Dor told me about McGonagall's punishment." He gestured to the bag hanging off the back of my chair, where the extracurricular list was sitting at the top. "Have you decided which club to join yet?"

I sighed, bringing out the list and smoothing it on top of my desk as leaned closer for a better look at it.

"Wow, I didn't even know they had some of these clubs here," he said, his brows raising. "So which one'd you pick, Pipes? Gobstones Club or Charms Club?"

"Very funny," I said, giving his shoulder a shove. "I'm not a geek."

"Not anymore," he reminded me, and I gave him a dry look that made him chuckle.

"If you must know, you insufferable git, I chose the Muggle Arts Club," I said, tapping my finger next to the name on the list, and he frowned.

"But aren't you a Muggle-born?" he asked, confused. "Shouldn't you already be familiar with all that stuff?"

I rolled my eyes at his close-mindedness; obviously he couldn't see the genius of my plan yet. "Yes, but that's exactly the point."

When he still looked confused I sighed, shaking my head and sending my curls flying in every direction. "It'll be a total blow off. I'll never have to pay attention or even remotely try; I'll just get the hours for showing up, and McG won't hate me anymore for being such a bad student. It's a win-win situation."

Benjy still didn't look convinced. "Yeah, but doesn't she know that you're Muggle-born?"

"Yes, but I already made up an answer for that one," I said, before giving Benjy the most wide-eyed, earnest look I could muster. "'Of course, Professor, I understand I already come from a dominantly Muggle society, but I would just _love_ to learn how wizards view Muggle art and how they are influenced by it from a magical perspective. Wouldn't it be _fascinating?'"_

Benjy shook his head, letting out a dry laugh. "Merlin, Piper. You are one manipulative bitch."

I shot him a smug smile. "And that's why you love me."

He shook his head again, but he was still grinning, and I knew that he was thinking it anyway. We'd formed an alliance in third year when the girls and I were beginning to make a reputation for ourselves, and our agreement was that he would proofread all of my Potions essays in exchange for setting him up with a Ravenclaw girl in our class, Rachel Sorenson. The alliance had made us permanent friends in the end, despite Rachel refusing to go out with him and me still flunking my Potions exam, but we'd been good mates ever since.

The bell rang then, signaling the end of class, and we gathered up our things, me clutching the list tightly in my hands as I waited for the room to clear. Benjy gave me a pat on the back as he walked out with his mates, joining up with Dorcas, Becca, and Emmeline after they had mimed praying for me.

When all the other students were gone, I approached Professor McGonagall's desk and cleared my throat, flipping the paper nervously in my hands. "Professor?"

She looked up from the paper she was reading, setting it down when she realized it was me and removing her spectacles. "Ah, yes, Miss Everlark. What did you decide?"

"I was, er, thinking about Muggle Arts," I said, rushing to explain when her lips pursed. "And I know I'm Muggle-born and all that, but I was thinking about looking at it from a, uh, different perspective. I think it'd be really cool to see how wizards view Muggle Arts without already having that Muggle lens, and—"

"I think that would be a wonderful idea, Miss Everlark," she said, which surprised me so much I stopped rambling. "That would certainly be interesting to study the Muggle arts in such an unconventional way. I will be looking forward to hear about your findings as the term goes on."

"O-of course, Professor," I stammered, still quite taken aback. "Er, when should I start?"

Professor McGonagall rifled around in her desk for a bit before handing me another piece of parchment paper, detailing when the club met and where and all sorts of other things as I nodded respectfully to her. "Thank you, Professor."

"I shall expect you to be punctual and in full attendance for all these meetings," she said, nodding to the paper in my hands. "I will have the student who is running the organization sign off on every meeting you attend and how much participation you give, to be handed in to me at the end of each week, so please do try your best, Miss Everlark."

"Yes, Professor," I said, nodding again. "I'll see you tonight after dinner to get started on those lines, too."

"Very well. I will see you then." She put her spectacles back on and picked up her paper again, which was a clear dismissal, but I only had one more question.

"Professor?" I said, and she waved a hand for me to continue despite not looking up from reading. "Er, who's the student in charge of the club again? So I can let them know I've joined?"

Professor McGonagall looked back up to me, and I swear there was a wicked glint of mischief in her sharp eyes as she said, "Oh, that would be Remus Lupin, dear. And not to worry; I have him in my class next, so I shall inform him then."

Well, shit. I certainly hadn't been expecting _that._

I felt the blood drain from my face as she went back to her reading, not even disconcerted at how pale I had gone at her words.

Have I already lamented about how long this year was going to be? Because it felt like it just got about a century longer.

* * *

 **Please review! I love to know what my readers are thinking!**

 **And I apologize if the Sorting Hat's song came off as too cheesy; rhyming has never been a thing for me, but there's something so authentic about the Sorting songs so I had to try it at least once.**

 **And never fear; Lupin is coming soon, I promise ;)**

 **xx**


	4. Public Enemy Number Three

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **Thank you readers for your patience with this chapter! Juggling multiple stories with college on top is a menace, but updates are coming, slowly but surely.**

 **Thanks also for all the new favorites/follows, and of course to my reviewers from last time: RedRoses130, Red red red ribbon, Elara Perry, lilrilakkuma, Cecilia Romano, XxThereAreTwoTypesOfLaborxX, Les Spring Hamilton, heroherondaletotherescue, and Anon (Guest)!**

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Chapter Four: Public Enemy Number Three

Remus was in shock.

He stared blankly at Professor McGonagall, who in turn eyed him coolly, though he thought he caught the faintest hint of a smirk on her lips before it was gone, to be replaced by arching brows and a stern gaze.

"I hope you understood what I just told you, Mr. Lupin," the strict witch said drily as she watched Remus standing before her, gaping like a fish out of water. "Would you like me to repeat it?"

"No!" he said, a bit too quickly, and her brows inched higher. "I mean – no, Professor. I, er, heard the first time."

"Good," she said, nodding brusquely and handing him a chart that she had apparently drawn up herself. He took it slowly, his fingers clumsy as he still tried to process that what was happening was real, and not some sort of tasteless joke. "You will record her progress here and bring it back to me after every meeting so I can assess how she is doing. I have already given her all the information she'll need, so I expect this all to go smoothly."

She gave him a warning look, and all he could do was nod. "Yes, Professor."

She sighed, shuffling around a few papers on her desk before she looked back up to him, lips pursed.

"Now, Mr. Lupin, I understand that in the past you have had some…difficulties, between Miss Everlark and your friends." Remus tried not to snort at this, thinking of how much of an understatement that was. Professor McGonagall seemed to realize this, though she didn't elaborate further on the matter, instead continuing with her lecture. "However, to no degree do I want this feud to continue whilst you are working together in this club. It is unprofessional, distracting, and reflects none of the values we uphold in Gryffindor House. Do I make myself clear?"

Remus looked down to his feet, scuffing his worn shoe on the stone floor as he grumbled, "Yes, Professor."

She gave him one last measuring look, her expression unreadable, before she gestured for him to sit down. "Go take a seat, Mr. Lupin. Class will begin shortly."

Remus did as he was told, slouching back to the row closest to the door where Peter, Sirius, and James had taken residence and reflecting on his rotten luck. Of course only _he_ would get stuck having to babysit _Piper Everlark,_ probably the most unlikeable, rude, and downright unpleasant witch in Hogwarts. His last year as a student was supposed to be brilliant, and this was anything but.

As he made his way back to his friends, he caught the eye of Lily Evans, who had sat herself in the front row, and she eyed him curiously as he walked past, he only responding with a shake of his head and a pointed look that said _we'll talk later._

She gave him a tiny nod before swiveling in her seat to chat with Marlene McKinnon, and he took his own in the back, his arse merely grazing his chair before the Marauders pounced on him.

"What did Minnie want with you so early?" Sirius asked, lounging back in his chair and propping his feet up on the desk before him, looking so carelessly handsome that he had begun to attract the attention of several students nearby, both boys and girls, and Remus felt a flicker of some sort of resigned envy as he slumped in his seat.

He opened his mouth to respond, but James cut in before he could say anything.

"It wasn't about us or anything, was it?" the bespectacled boy asked, looking slightly miffed. "After all, I'm—"

"Head Boy now, yes, yes, we get it," Sirius drawled, rolling his eyes. "Tell us something new, Prongs."

James shot the dark-haired boy an affronted look. "What d'you mean by that, Pads?"

"Only that you've ever talked about it—"

"—every second of every day—" Remus interjected.

"—for the last century," Peter supplied.

"And let's not forget how many times you've mentioned Evans since we boarded the Express yesterday," Sirius added, wagging his finger at James.

The messy-haired boy swatted his hand away, scowling at them. "Tossers," he muttered darkly, and the other three shared a wicked grin before James's attention switched back to Remus. "Seriously, though, Moony, what did McGonagall want?"

Remus's good mood evaporated again at the question, and he sunk lower in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. "Apparently as punishment for what happened on the train yesterday – " he couldn't help looking to Sirius at this – "McGonagall assigned Piper Everlark to the Muggle Arts Club in an effort to curb her behavior. You know, the club that _I'm_ in charge of."

Peter let out a strangled moan from where he was sat next to James, burying his head in his hands. "Please tell me you're joking."

Remus grimaced, shaking his head; Peter was the only other Marauder in the club, and by Merlin, did the kid take it seriously. His bad news was probably a devastating blow to the blond boy.

"Wish I was, Pete," he said, and Peter moaned again.

"That's it?" Sirius said, outraged. "Pimply hexes me with a Bat-Bogey and Minnie lets her join a _club?"_ He turned his incredulous stare onto the Transfiguration professor, who was giving no signs that she was hearing his outburst. "Where is the _justice?"_

Remus turned to look at James, who had yet to voice his own disbelief, which the other boy found strange; James loathed Piper Everlark, but instead of wearing the expressions of mingled fury and disgust such as Sirius and Peter, he seemed to be contemplating something, his lips quirked and his brows drawn.

Before he could ask James's opinion on the matter, however, a distant bell chimed, signaling the start of class, and he turned away as Professor McGonagall began to speak from the front of the classroom, vowing to ask James what was on the boy's mind later as he settled in for what would undoubtedly be a complicated year.

* * *

By the time we got out of our last class for the day, I was famished.

I nearly sprinted up the stairs to get out of the dungeons where we had just had our N.E.W.T Potions class, Becca following behind me at a slower pace as we went to meet Emmeline and Dorcas. Unfortunately, we were the only two who were in Potions that year, since Emmeline's career path (which was journalism) didn't require her to take it anymore, and Dorcas hadn't gotten the grades to get in, which really put a cramp in our style, being split up like that, but hey. You can't have everything in life, right?

To be honest, I don't quite know why I was still taking Potions either, much less taking the N.E.W.T level course for it. I mean, sure, I was definitely one of Professor Slughorn's favorite students, and my grades weren't too shabby, despite McGonagall's warnings, but it had nothing to do with my career path. At least, I don't think. I never had any idea of what I wanted to do when I left school, and I still don't, but I had to give McGonagall something to work with when we met for our career advising plan last year. I think I told her something along the lines of being an Obliviator, which I was sure I had just made up, but she'd just given me a weird look and a packet that listed all the courses I would have to take up until seventh year that were required for it – thus, me being in Potions still, even though it was one of the most boring classes out there.

I bounded out of the staircase, shouldering aside a Slytherin girl who gave me a dirty look that I ignored as I spotted Emmeline and Dorcas waiting for us at the doors to the Great Hall. I started over to them, Becca finally managing to catch up to me and falling in step as we approached the other two girls.

I waved at them to get their attention, though the gesture was entirely useless as a voice behind me bellowed, "WHIMBLESBY!"

Now, if you don't go to Hogwarts, or just happen to be living under a rock, you might not understand the infamous story of Maggie Whimblesby and Argus Filch, the caretaker at the school. Allow me to enlighten you.

Back in second year, little twelve-year-old me had decided that enough was enough; the Marauders had been torturing my friends and me for well over a year then, and I was sick of it. The pranks, the embarrassment, the names, and for what? All because of a stupid disagreement that had happened in first year and painted me (and by default, anyone who had associated with me) as their Public Enemy Number Three (you'll remember that Severus Snape and Bertram Aubrey are One and Two, respectively), though that is a story for another time.

Anyway, me being the rebel child I was, I had decided to fight fire with fire, and had taken it upon myself to become the bane of the Marauders' existence: every prank of theirs was met with one that was, if not better, then on par with their own; every insult was met with either another one or a fist, and…well, you get the idea. I strived to become their own personal antithesis, and they despised me even more for it. You can imagine, then, that I got into trouble just about as often as they did, which is where Filch comes in.

The first time I had gotten caught by the caretaker had been around March in second year, when I'd been walking down an empty corridor with a handful of dungbombs that I had been planning on setting off in the Marauders' dormitory, before I, the most graceful human being, had tripped and set them off in the corridor. Filch had arrived to the scene before I even thought about getting out of there, and in my fear of the caretaker, I told him that my name was Maggie Whimblesby as he had dragged me to his office. And ever since then, the name just sorta…stuck.

Any time I got in trouble, he would write me up as 'Maggie Whimblesby' and stick it in a file that he always threatened to show Professor Dumbledore, yet he never had, as far as I knew. Or maybe he had, and Professor Dumbledore had elected to ignore it, considering there was no student named Maggie Whimblesby at Hogwarts. But anyway, as my popularity had grown, so had my alias's infamy; every student somehow knew that I was actually Maggie Whimblesby, and I had a nagging suspicion that some of the staff knew, too, yet I had never been turned in for it, not even by the Marauders or Lily Evans, which just goes to show how much everyone hates Filch. I think they just found it far too amusing to do much of anything about it, and I'd even overheard some younger students back in fourth year betting on how long it would take before Filch finally realized that he had been writing me up under a fictitious name all this time.

"Whimblesby!" Filch repeated, hobbling over to me with his demonic cat, Mrs. Norris, right on his heels, and I stopped walking, facing the caretaker calmly.

"Mr. Filch," I said coolly, clasping my hands behind my back and giving him a charming smile. "A pleasure to see you, as always."

The caretaker came to a stop before me, raking me over with narrow eyes while his jowls quivered with the force of his breath, and I strained not to wrinkle my nose at the strong stench of garlic wafting over me.

"Don't play nice with me, Whimblesby!" he snapped. "I'll be keeping an extra careful eye on you this year; one more slip up…"

"And you'll make sure Professor Dumbledore expels me," I finished for him, rolling my eyes. "Yeah, got it. Just like every other year."

Filch eyed me angrily, looking like he wanted to write me up right then and there, but after a few seconds he shuffled off, grumbling under his breath to his cat as I relaxed, turning back to face my friends.

"C'mon, _Maggie,"_ Dorcas said, rolling her eyes while the others snickered. "Let's nip some food and go eat out in the courtyard."

She led us inside the Great Hall, where we nimbly snuck some portable food into our bags and pockets before discreetly escaping to the courtyard, claiming our small dusky corner hidden out of sight of the doors where we usually took residence during the day, sometimes in the evening, like we were doing now. Technically we weren't allowed to sneak food out of the Great Hall, but it'd become a sort of habit for us since our third year, and it was a nice respite away from all the other students.

"So how was everyone's day?" Emmeline asked, picking at her roll while eyeing the rest of us eagerly. Ah, Em. Such a sweet lass. I'd say she was the mother hen of our friend group, but sometimes she was just too soft-spoken. Maybe she was the middle sister; she could usually get Becca to listen to her, since she was the baby of the group, but Dorcas and I were far too rebellious for her, definitely the older sisters.

"I only contemplated homicide four times and suicide twice, so not that bad," Dorcas said, licking the frosting off a vanilla cupcake before handing it off to me. One of the pillars that had built up our foundation of friendship was her disinterest in the cake part of the cupcake and my vehement hatred of frosting of any kind, so our bond was stronger than most friends'.

"That's downright cheerful for you, mate," I said around a mouthful of cake. A couple crumbs spilled out of my mouth and onto my skirt, and Becca rolled her eyes at me and swept them onto the ground. Maybe I should reevaluate her status as the baby sister…

Dorcas snorted. "It's bloody peaceful, is what it is." She suddenly frowned, her golden eyes scanning the horizon while her nails ticked on the stone beneath us, and I recognized that expression as her contemplating face. "Y'know, come to think of it, have you lot noticed that this year seems to be a bit boring so far?"

"What do you mean?" Emmeline said, her brows scrunching. "It's only the second day."

"Wish I could relate," I mumbled, thinking back to the incident on the train and McGonagall's subsequent punishment, but they ignored me.

"I dunno." Dorcas shrugged. "I just feel like something's…off."

"It's probably your sex drive, Dor," Becca said, grinning. "There hasn't been a party yet, so you haven't been on the prowl like you usually are."

Dorcas smiled ruefully before nodding to the courtyard. "Perhaps, Becca. Yet perhaps I have also spoken too soon, because I feel like things are about to get _very_ interesting in the next ten seconds."

We all frowned at each other, confused, before we followed to where her gaze was pointed at, facing the double doors that were open and spilling light and sound from the Great Hall into the courtyard, and I internally groaned when I saw Remus Lupin emerge into the courtyard and look around before spotting us and walking over, his entire being seeming to ooze reluctance.

"Wonder what pretty boy wants?" Dorcas mused, watching him approach like a cat studying a mouse.

"Hey, Geek God!" Becca called, waving to the sandy-haired boy. "Damn, did I say 'geek' again? You know I always mean Greek."

Lupin looked as if he were struggling with himself not to just turn around and walk away, so I decided to take pity on him and cut to the chase, knowing why he was here.

"What's up, drama king?" I said, hopping down from the archway we were perched in and sauntering towards him, my hands in my robe pockets. "Come to lord your club kingship over the newly acquired, but not yet loyal subject?"

He only stared at me coldly, but I could guess that he was grinding his teeth into dust in that moment when I saw a muscle in his jaw twitch.

"Not exactly," he managed, before casting a disdainful look to the three girls behind me. "Can I speak to you?"

I pretended to study my nails, deciding to milk this for all it was worth; Lupin may have been a Prefect and so thought himself above the taunts and insults the other Marauders had thrown at me over the years, but I knew that he still despised me as much as the others, and though he had never participated directly in our war, he had never tried to stop it either.

I finally looked up to him, raising a brow as his scowl deepened. "Last I checked, you already were."

I honestly thought he was about to shove me over for a second, but he only shook his head, jabbing a finger at the other girls, who all tittered. "I meant _alone."_

Dorcas let out a catcall while Becca whistled, Emmeline giggling like mad.

"Damn, Lupin, I always took you as the shy one," Dorcas jeered.

"Watch out for him, Pipes," Becca said, waggling her brows. "He might try to cop a feel."

"Use protection!" Emmeline sang, and they all laughed again while I rolled my eyes at their antics, though I couldn't hide my smirk at Lupin's red face.

"Piss off," he shot at them. He grabbed my elbow and practically dragged me away, crossing the courtyard and ducking into an alcove that overlooked the deep gorge that surrounded the southern end of the castle. It was quiet here, I noticed; the only sounds I could hear were the far-off rushing of the water in the gorge that fed into the Black Lake and the crows squawking as they flew by, with the occasional hoot of an owl. The Great Hall was just a drone of distant voices, and despite the fact I was with Remus Lupin, I quite liked it here. It was peaceful.

"Professor McGonagall already gave me the schedule for your barmy club, so I don't know why I'm supposed to be here," I said, tugging my arm out of his grasp and crossing both over my chest as he faced me.

"You're here because I'm going to give you a warning, Everlark," he said. I raised my brows, meeting his eyes steadily before letting out a muttered curse. He stared at me, his expression annoyed. "What?"

"I owe Dorcas a Galleon," I said glumly, slumping against the wall behind me and gesturing to him. "She was right; your eyes are green."

He continued to stare at me, so I elaborated. "I always thought they were hazel or something. I could never tell, though; you always kept far back whenever your mates would have a go at me."

I lifted my chin haughtily, and he seemed to understand my meaning, but he only shook his head, running a hand through his sandy hair.

"Whatever," he said. "I— _what?"_

I had scoffed at his clear dismissal, but I waved my hand, gesturing for him to go on. "Nothing. You were saying?"

He ran a hand through his hair again, and I was starting to wonder if it was a subconscious habit he had picked up from Potter, as the latter always seemed to be doing something to his already wild hair.

"Look," he said, glaring at me. "I didn't ask for you to be in this club either, but since McGonagall is hellbent on you straightening up your act, we're stuck with it. All I'm saying is that if you fuck this up for all of us, then I'll make sure you're trapped here forever with no hope of graduating. Got it?"

"Wow, Lupin, I'm impressed," I said, and he blinked, startled. "I almost took you seriously there for a second."

He threw his hands up in frustration. "You're entirely impossible." He shook his head, staring at me in amazement. "How anyone in this school can tolerate you is beyond me."

I glared at him frostily. "I wonder the same thing about you and your mates."

We stared at each other for a long moment, our years-long animosity hanging in the air between us, before he finally took a step back, turning back toward the courtyard.

"First meeting is next Wednesday after dinner," he said, not facing me. "Don't be late."

He rounded the corner and disappeared, leaving me alone to stare out at the distant mountains and watch the crows circle high in the air.

* * *

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	5. Things Finally Start Going My Way

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **Thank you for all the new favorites/follows, and thank you to my reviewers from last time: The Silvernote, Elara Perry, Les Spring Hamilton, RichestoDitches, RedRoses130, Smiley83832, heroherondaletotherescue, Cae-Leigh Anne, and Corii00!**

* * *

Chapter Five: Things Finally Start Going My Way

I was absolutely dreading Wednesday, which of course meant that it was approaching at an alarming rate. Just once, I wished my life wasn't so terrible, but it seemed as if my friends had tired of sympathizing with me and now chastised me any time I brought up my impending doom.

"It's not fair," I bemoaned at breakfast the day before the club was supposed to meet. I saw Becca roll her eyes out of my peripheral while Emmeline seemed to take extreme interest in her porridge all of a sudden, but I didn't let them put me off of my complaining. "Why do I have to be stuck with Lupin and Pettigrew for the rest of term?"

"You're the one who chose the club, idiot," Dorcas said, never taking her gaze off that morning's issue of the _Daily Prophet,_ and I made a face at her that she didn't see.

"Yeah, but I didn't know _they_ were in it." I nodded my head down the table to where the pratty Marauders sat, holding court over the rest of the Gryffindors around them, but I reserved my nasty glare for Lupin and Pettigrew, who were too preoccupied with something Potter was saying to notice that I was attempting to burn holes in the back of their heads and turn their brains into goo.

"Well, it's too late now," Dorcas said indifferently, turning a page in her newspaper and obviously seeming to find whatever article she was reading much more fascinating than my current dilemma. "McG won't let you switch, so there's no use crying over it."

I wrinkled my nose, though conceded this point to her. The day after my little chat with Lupin in the courtyard, I had marched straight to Professor McGonagall's office to argue and later beg my way out of the Muggle Arts Club, though the strict witch had been as stubborn as a boulder. She had basically told me to stop whining and get to class, completely blowing off my pleas and very valid reasons I had for not being able to work with Lupin, but she hadn't bought it, nearly shoving me out of her office before slamming the door in my face.

"Stop looking so glum, Pipes," Becca said. "Your sulking face is hardly attractive."

I shot her a rude hand gesture, but she merely shrugged me off, gathering her things as she and Emmeline prepared to depart for Ancient Runes. So much for my supportive friends. First they scold me for being so pouty, and then they just leave me to brood and become even more pouty! Maybe it was time I started looking at better mates to hang around with, ones who would be sympathetic to my plight…

"C'mon, Mopey," Dorcas sighed, discarding her _Prophet_ on the table and standing up. "Let's get to Divination."

I ignored her distasteful nickname and followed her out of the Great Hall, beginning the arduous trek across the castle to where the Divination classroom was, but we'd barely walked a few steps out of the hall before a solid mass crashed into my chest and sent me toppling painfully to the ground, and I let out a particularly loud and colorful curse as I landed on my side.

"Watch where you're going!" I snapped, accepting Dorcas's hand up and glaring at my bumbling attacker, only to stop in recognition when I saw the evil kid from Fortescue's standing in front of me and wearing a shite-eating grin. _"You."_

"Sorry, _Pimply,"_ the little ponce replied, and I scowled so darkly I had to wonder if this kid was stupid enough not to see the warning in my eyes as he pushed past me with two of his tiny snickering friends. They continued into the Great Hall, laughing like the little gits they were, and I clenched my jaw, wondering how they even knew the Marauders' stupid nickname for me, for they couldn't have been older than first years.

"Let it go, Pipes," Dorcas said, patting my shoulder and guiding me towards the marble staircase. "I'd rather not have to testify against you if you get arrested for practicing Unforgivables on the firsties."

* * *

Divination had to be the most useless class in the world. Me being a Muggle-born and all, the subject had seemed fascinating when I signed up for it in third year, but I quickly began to realize why it was treated as such a joke in the wizarding world. All we did was stare into foggy crystal balls and make up predictions based on tea leaves and the lines on people's hands, and I would bet my entire life savings that our teacher couldn't even tell a crystal ball from a snow globe and that he was only teaching this class for those sweet Hogwarts staff benefits.

"Today we will be reading tea leaves," Professor Moone announced once we were all settled. His puffy white hair and voluminous beard gave him the impression of Santa Claus, if Santa had somehow become a homeless hippie bum after retiring from the Christmas scene. He was always decked out in beads and these weird woolen vests, and was always barefoot for some reason beyond me; even in winter all he wore on his feet were mismatching socks with holes in the toes, but I had to admire the guy on his ability to not care what anyone thought of him. His eccentricity had permanently earned him the title of 'Professor Loon', but he seemed delighted by the name and typically laughed and hugged a student whenever they accidentally slipped up and called him it aloud.

Dorcas groaned as we pulled out our copies of _Unfogging the Future_ and turned to the chapter on tea leaves, thumping the volume on the table and scowling.

"We've been working on tea leaves ever since term started," she grumbled. "Why can't we just move on already so I can stop making predictions about you dying from some fatal disaster?"

I simply shrugged, thumbing through the pages lazily.

"Why don't you ask Loon if you can switch out?" I said snidely, and she threw me a glare.

"Y'know, you've been a right pain in the arse ever since you found out you're going to be babysat by Lupin every week," she said, and I raised my brows.

"Sorry that you're not being forced into working with your arch-nemesis," I sniffed.

"Then maybe you shouldn't have hexed Black on the train!"

"He was being a git to you and Becca! Someone had to do something!"

Dorcas sighed, shaking her head and looking at me with an unreadable gaze. "I think you overreacted, Piper. Black's hurled worse insults at us before."

I gaped at her, not believing what I was hearing.

"So I was just supposed to roll over and take it when he accused me of using Aubrey to get my O.W.L. results?" I said incredulously, and she gave a half-hearted shrug.

"Look, this vendetta that you have with the Marauders…we never asked to be a part of it. You've kept up this war for so long, and for what?" She shook her head again, her nails tapping irritably on the circular clothed table separating us. "Maybe you should let this grudge go, Pipes. They're graduating after this year, and then we'll never see them again. It's time to let bygones be bygones."

I was stunned. I couldn't even think of anything to say, and she just gave me a slight smile before going to fetch our teacups from Professor Loon. And what _could_ I say? I contemplated throwing it back in her face that if weren't for my war against the Marauders, then we would never have been as close of friends as we are, but figured that was too much of a low blow. But how could she think that? What had made her change her mind? Certainly it wasn't my incessant complaining. Was it?

"I'm sensing very negative energy from you right now, Miss Everlark," Professor Loon said as he swept up behind me, and I tried not to gag on the heavy, cloying scent that was rolling off him. "Remember to clear your head and keep your mind open to experience the great powers of your Inner Eye!"

I glared at the back of his head as he ambled off and decided that my prophecy for this year was whether or not I would end up beating the old coot senseless with one of his teacups before the term was out.

* * *

I ate dinner alone that night. I know, I know, call me childish all you want, but I really wasn't in the mood to be around Dorcas or the others. I just wanted to sulk without being admonished for it and needed to ponder on Dorcas's words from earlier, even though I'd been chewing on them for the better part of a day.

I didn't understand what had gotten into her. She hated the Marauders as much as I did, and even though she may have never participated directly in my revenge against them, she'd never discouraged me before either. Same with Becca and Emmeline. I didn't know where they stood on the matter concerning my war against the seventh-year boys, but I figured they'd side with Dorcas – they always did.

I'd left the kitchens behind to seek some solitude, carrying a plate of food with me. Don't get me wrong, I liked the house-elves and all, but after a while it got tiring falling out of my seat every time one of them would Apparate into the room with a loud _crack_ that resembled a gunshot. Technically I shouldn't even know where the kitchens were, much less be taking food from them, but the house-elves were always so accommodating, and it wasn't my fault if Sean Baskin, my Hufflepuff ex from fourth year, showed me how to enter in the first place.

I found a nice empty alcove on the first-floor corridor and perched myself inside of it, taking a stab at my boiled potatoes with my fork before shoveling the bite in my mouth moodily, unable to pull myself out of my brooding session. I doubted my attitude will have improved by tomorrow, considering what I had to look forward to, but I tried not to think about Lupin and his stupid club too much, attempting to enjoy my lonely dinner for one.

Of course, I could never get anything I asked for.

"What are you doing here, Everlark?"

I looked up to see Lily Evans standing in front of my hideout, her arms crossed and an imperious look on her heart-shaped face as her emerald eyes swept over me and the plate of food I was holding before her brows rose, giving her features an unimpressed look.

"You're a smart girl, Evans," I said, nodding to her Head Girl badge and looking wholly unconcerned as I ate another bite of roast chicken. "I'm sure you can very well guess what I'm doing."

"Dinner ended over half an hour ago," she said, still staring at me with those irritating arching brows of hers. "And I didn't see you with your fellow twits, so I'm assuming you got that from the kitchens." She pointed to my plate of half-eaten food, but I merely shrugged, taking my time chewing and swallowing as she glared at me.

"C'mon, Evans, we're in the same House," I whined. "You're not going to take points off me because you found me sulking, are you?"

"Of course not," she said, sniffing. "I want Gryffindor to win the Cup as much as the next person, but you _are_ breaking school rules still."

"Then slap me with a detention," I said. "Just schedule it sometime after tomorrow; I'm going to be busy with something McG already set up for me."

Evans cocked her head, studying me in mild interest, though I could tell she'd rather be anywhere else than standing here talking to me.

"I heard about that," she said, and I faked applause for her.

"She can hear!" I said, but she only scowled further at me.

"Just don't give Remus any shite, you hear?" she said, ignoring my jab. "He has enough on his plate without you giving him hell for the rest of term."

I narrowed my eyes at her, suddenly annoyed again. Why was everyone getting on to _me_ about the Marauders? _They_ were the ones who had made my life suck since first year, and now suddenly everyone wants to take _their_ side? Ugh. I think I could feel my potatoes coming up again.

"Whatever, Evans," I mumbled, finishing up the last of my dinner. She didn't say anything for a long while, but when I looked back up, she was already continuing with her rounds down the corridor, and I frowned at her back. Did Evans really just pass up an opportunity to give me detention? Was the world coming to an end?

Suddenly struck with a thought, I swallowed my last bite hastily and called out, "Evans, hey!"

She turned to look back at me, that irritating "I'm-better-than-you" look still permeating her features, but I ignored it.

"What do you want, Everlark?" She sounded tired, and I wondered if that one simple conversation with me had made her so weary.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

She blinked in surprise, her face settling into a frown as her bright eyes raked me over, as if debating whether she was going to give me a solid answer or not.

"Besides the obvious reasons?" she asked, and I nodded. I knew what the obvious reasons were, we all did: I was loud, and overdramatic, and I always felt the need to be the center of attention. Most guys found that annoying, but the ones who found it charming were attracted to me like flies with rotten fruit, and that was typically why the female population of Hogwarts tended to hate me so much, because they thought I was a slag.

Evans sighed, shaking out her mane of red hair before eyeing me shrewdly.

"Do you remember when I was a Prefect fifth year?" she asked, and I nodded slowly, unsure of where she was going with this. "You were only a fourth-year, but it was around that time that you and your mates started making a name for yourselves." Ah, yes. The year the girls and I had blossomed to our full potential. We were no longer the lame, pathetic underclassmen exacting revenge on the Marauders, but the attractive, popular girls who everyone else had slept on. That was a good year for us.

She sighed again, suddenly looking around as if to make sure no one would see her talking to me, and I rolled my eyes before she continued.

"Well, there was an incident one day. I caught you skiving class in the bathroom, but when I attempted to give you a detention, you completely lost your head. You started screaming horrible things at me, saying how I was a prissy goody-two-shoes and that nobody liked me because of it, and that I thought the world revolved around me and I threw a fit anytime I didn't get what I wanted."

She stared hard at me as she talked, but I felt like I was getting slapped. I didn't remember any of this. Had I really said all those nasty things to Evans, or was she just making it up?

"You also told me that you didn't know what James Potter saw in me since I was so stuck up and spoiled and selfish, and to finish it off, you told me to pull the unnaturally long and stiff stick out of my arse before storming off."

Oh. Oh, _no._ I remembered now. I remembered the whole thing clearly. I flushed, but not from the realization that I had said all those things to Evans, because, come on, they were _true._ That was the day of the letter…

I cleared my throat while Evans looked at me expectantly; what for, I had no idea, but if she was waiting for an apology, she'd be waiting a while. This street went both ways, and I wouldn't apologize to her until she apologized to me for all the awful things she'd said about _me_ over the last few years.

"Good to know," I said nonchalantly, hopping out of the alcove and flipping my hair over my shoulder. Evans' eyes narrowed, but I gave her a brilliant smile. "Thanks for the honesty, Evans."

She scoffed.

"You are such a brat, Everlark," she said, before turning on her heel and stalking away. As she went, I could hear her mutter, "Dunno why I'm even surprised…"

I began to head back to the kitchens, intending to return my plate, but as I walked through the empty corridor, I tried to figure out why my little conversation with Evans had made me feel worse than before.

* * *

The next afternoon I was sitting in the courtyard with the girls while we enjoyed our free block for that day, choosing to spend it outside and take advantage of the good weather while it lasted. Don't get me wrong, I loved summer and all, but I much preferred the cold. This sunshine and sweat just didn't do the trick for me, but I tried to keep my complaining to a minimum. Dorcas and I had made up after our spat yesterday, though we hadn't talked it over outright, but that was us. We were on some weird wavelength where we could always tell what the other person was feeling, and I knew she was sorry for snapping at me, but I could tell she was still a little exasperated with me.

"Benjy, if you kick that thing over here one more time I'm going to Jelly-Legs you!" Emmeline yelled after the hacky-sack the boys from our year had been messing around with hit her in the head for the third time.

"Sorry, Em," JJ, our friend and fellow Gryffindor called, grinning as Emmeline hurled the hacky-sack back to him with a huff. "It won't happen again!"

"It better not, Jasper Jones!" she warned, going back to her Charms book while the rest of us snickered.

"It's not our fault that Benjy can't aim for hippogriff dung," Dom snorted, and Benjy flipped him off.

"Sod off," the other boy said, but he was grinning as Dom punched his shoulder.

"You should be a Chaser for Hufflepuff, Benj," Alfie cracked. "They can't ever score a hoop to save their lives – you'd fit right in!"

"Boys, stop taking the piss out of poor Benjy," I said, twirling a loose curl around my finger as I watched their antics. "He can't help it if he was born with the coordination of a troll."

Everyone laughed at this, and I squealed as Benjy swatted at my head, ducking away from his hand and burrowing my head into Becca's side. "Beck, save me!"

Becca pushed me off with a good-natured smile. "No way! You deserve it."

"At least Becca's on my side," Benjy said, grinning at my friend before ruffling my hair and sending my curls sticking every which direction.

"Argh, Benjy, not the hair!" I groaned, taking a kick at his shins, but he was already bounding away to rejoin his friends, shooting Becca a wink over his shoulder that caused her to blush.

"That going well?" I asked under my breath, and Becca looked away from the boys' game to give me an inquisitive look.

"What do you mean?" she said, and I rolled my eyes, not convinced at her air of nonchalance.

"You and Fenwick," I said, tilting my head in the direction of the blond boy, and she blushed further.

"Oh, I, er…" She stopped stuttering when she met my knowing gaze and grimaced, her fair cheeks bright red. "Look, I don't know, okay? It's weird."

"'S not weird," I assured her, looking back to where the boys were and watching Benjy flip his shaggy hair out of his eyes. "You two would be cute together."

"Maybe," she said, nibbling on her lower lip and following my gaze, her eyes raking over Benjy from under her dark bangs. "I just don't know if I like him in that way or not, or if I'm only considering him because I've known he's had a crush on me since fourth year."

"You never know if you don't try," I pointed out, and she sighed. "Yeah, I know."

"BENJY!" Emmeline shouted, clutching the hacky-sack in her hand and standing up as the boys grimaced.

"Cool it, kids, let's just go to dinner," Dorcas said reasonably, rising gracefully to her feet and taking the hacky-sack from Emmeline before putting it in her bag.

Emmeline still glared at Benjy as we made our way back into the castle, and when we got to the Gryffindor table she sat as far away from him as she could, ignoring his apologies and choosing to engage JJ and Dom in conversation instead.

"So, Pipes, ready for your meeting with the drama freaks tonight?" Alfie asked, and I glared at him from under my lashes as I spooned some stew into my mouth. Alfie Kim was one of the nicest blokes at Hogwarts, but he had an unnerving knack for picking people apart and dissecting their moods, which annoyed me to no end, but I guess my dread wasn't so easily concealed as I thought it was as I met his dark eyes reluctantly.

"I would rather eat the pus from a snargaluff pod," I deadpanned, and he snorted into his pumpkin juice.

"I don't think I've ever heard you so excited about something," he said, and I flicked a couple of peas at him from the dish in front of us as he sniggered, dodging them so they hit Benjy instead.

"Cheer up, Piper, I don't think it'll be that bad," the blond boy said, brushing the peas off his robes and missing the skeptical look I shot him. "Lupin and Pettigrew are only two people, and there's sure to be a dozen more students in that club. You could probably avoid them all term if you tried."

I glanced down the table to where the Marauders and the seventh-year girls had just sat down, and I felt a vindictive sort of pleasure when I saw that Lupin and Pettigrew looked just as miserable as me. Good. If I was going to go down, I'd drag them with me.

At that moment, Lupin looked up and made direct eye contact with me, and when he noticed me already staring at him, he scowled and nearly knocked over his goblet, catching it before it could spill but casting me one last withering look before turning back to his friends.

I huffed in annoyance, staring down at my stew and wondering if it would be too dramatic to start choking on a carrot purposefully. Probably.

"I doubt that," I muttered.

* * *

After dinner, I hurried to the third-floor classroom where the meeting was being held, puffing as I jogged down the corridors and wishing I had gotten more in shape this summer like I told myself I was going to do before the holiday started. I was already about five minutes late, but it wasn't entirely my fault; Benjy had hit Emmeline in the head again with the hacky-sack as we were leaving the Great Hall and I had stopped to watch her go ballistic before realizing that I was going to be late and taking off. I wasn't so much worried about Lupin's reaction to my inability to be punctual, but I knew he'd be reporting it to McGonagall, so I had no choice but to hurry.

I found the classroom and barged in, hoping my face wasn't red or blotchy as I began to speak.

"Sorry I'm late, I got lost—"

I stopped dead in my tracks when every head in the room swiveled to face me, and the first thing I noticed was how many people there seemed to be. Benjy had estimated at least a dozen, but this was more like _two_ dozen. Most of them were older students, but there were a few from younger years as well, and my eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when I saw the kid from Fortescue's sitting in a row with his demonic friends staring back and grinning evilly at me. Great. As if my luck couldn't get any worse.

I should really stop wondering that to myself, though. It just seemed like an open invitation for the universe to screw me over more, and I couldn't stop the groan that left my mouth when I looked to the front of the room and saw not only Lupin and Pettigrew, but the smug faces of James Potter, Sirius Black, Lily Evans, and the rest of their seventh-year cronies looking back at me with petty little smirks.

Lupin stood behind a desk at the front of the room, and I realized that he had been talking before I came careening in, for he gave me a dirty look and cleared his throat.

"Just take a seat, Everlark," he said, and I grudgingly obeyed, finding a seat near the back and plopping down next to a bloke I recognized from my Herbology classes. He was a Hufflepuff, but he was scary big – like, muscles that bulged underneath his uniform and freakishly tall big, with glowering eyes set under thick brows and a permanent scowl etched on his features. I had a feeling his name was Thaddius Meyers, but from the way he was glaring at me, I didn't want to ask to be sure.

Lupin cleared his throat again, and I hurriedly looked away from the Hufflepuff guy to tune in to what he was saying, trying to keep the scowl from my face in the hopes that he would give me a good first report back to McG, though I knew my chances were slim.

"Anyway," he said, "Flitwick chose a Muggle playwright over the summer for us to study this term and perform one of his plays before the Christmas holidays, and this year's choice is William Shakespeare."

My ears perked up at this despite my intense dread of even being in this room, but I couldn't help it; my mum loved Shakespeare and always used to take me and Archie to go see the shows they put on in the little theater a couple streets away from our flat, so I was practically raised on this stuff, and I couldn't help being a little excited. Most of the other kids in the room didn't seem to be familiar with the name, however, except for a few Muggle-born students like me, and Lily Evans, who I saw nodding thoughtfully from the front before I remembered she was a Muggle-born, too. Huh. I forgot that despite her high and mighty attitude she came from the same background as me, even though she was obviously privileged and pampered where I, sadly, was not.

"Our choices this year are: _The Taming of the Shrew, Twelfth Night, Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet,_ and _A Midsummer Night's Dream,"_ Lupin continued, consulting a list before him on the desk before looking back up to the assembled club members. "Any votes on which one we should perform?"

"Isn't _Romeo and Juliet_ a love story?" Marlene McKinnon piped up. "We could do that one." I saw her cast a sickening look to Black at this, and I couldn't contain my snort, garnering the attention of almost everyone in the room.

"Yeah, it's a truly beautiful story, once you get past all the dying and the creepy fact that Juliet is only thirteen when Romeo tries to get with her," I said, and McKinnon glared at me, facing back towards the front and tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder while some kids snickered at my words.

 _"Hamlet_ would be fun," Evans mused, and I rolled my eyes. If she was looking for 'fun', _Hamlet_ was about the furthest you could get.

Unfortunately, Potter had seen my eye roll, and once again all attention diverted to me when he said, "You got a better idea, Pimply?"

More sniggers at this, but I ignored them. Honestly, I knew Potter wore glasses for a reason, but was he really _that_ blind? I hadn't had pimples in years!

 _"Hamlet_ would be fine if we wanted to bore the entire student body out of their minds," I said. "And same with _Shrew;_ you have to look at who our audience is going to be. We're going to be performing this in front of the school; not everyone is going to understand those plays, especially the younger kids. If we want our show to be good, then we have to cater to _all_ the students. And the best plays for that would either be _Twelfth Night_ or _A Midsummer Night's Dream."_

Silence met my words, and for once, Potter didn't seem to have an argument against me. Even Lupin didn't say anything, but I could see him staring at me as if he didn't know I could speak English.

"She's…right," he said reluctantly, sounding as if he had choked on the words before they came out, and I gave him a brilliant smile that immediately made him scowl back down to his desk. "Er, what would your suggestion be…Everlark?"

He grimaced as he said my name, but my smile only grew wider, and I shook back my hair with an air of superiority that made Black grumble under his breath from the front.

 _"Midsummer,"_ I said. "It's funny, it's easy to follow along, there's romance," I raised my brows at McKinnon, who only frowned, "and there's plenty of parts for everyone in here, including ensemble. It'll be brilliant."

I could see everyone looking around at each other throughout the room, nodding along with my words and seeming to consider what I had said, and I leaned back in my seat, crossing my arms and lifting my chin haughtily. Day one and I didn't even have to try that hard to make sure everyone was on my side. Well, _almost_ everyone. Most of the seventh years kept casting me black looks, but I couldn't find it in myself to care. Things were finally starting to go my way again.

"All right, let's take it to a vote," Lupin said over the clamor, and it overjoyed me to hear how pained his voice was that he even had to consider one of my ideas. "All in favor?"

Everyone raised their hands, save for the Marauders, Evans, McKinnon, and Alice Fortescue. Mary MacDonald attempted to raise her hand, but Fortescue slapped it down, leaving MacDonald to pout and slump down in her seat.

Lupin looked as if he had aged a day before he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's decided, then. Everlark's idea is a go."

I couldn't keep the smile off my face. This year was starting to look a whole lot better.

* * *

 **Please review! I love to hear your thoughts!**

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	6. I Get Caught with My Pants Down

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **So I definitely wrote this chapter instead of reviewing for my physics final, but I like to think of it as the silver lining on an otherwise very, very dark cloud that is called finals week.**

 **Thank you for all the new favorites/follows, and thank you to my reviewers from last time: damnsonnn, Cecilia Romano, heroherondaletotherescue, The Silvernote, RedRoses130, and Les Spring Hamilton!**

* * *

Chapter Six: I Get Caught with My Pants Down

"Miss Everlark, would you mind staying behind a few minutes?"

I winced, stopping in my tracks as Professor McGonagall's voice called out to me. Though she had phrased it as a question, her no-nonsense tone made it clear I didn't have a choice, so I reluctantly turned anyway, shooting a last grimace at Benjy, Emmeline, and the others as they mimed praying for me. JJ drew a line across his neck with a finger, grinning at me, and I would've kicked him if McG wasn't watching me with her sharp eyes.

My friends exited the classroom, leaving me alone with the Transfiguration professor as I approached her desk, fiddling with my bag strap and trying not to look too guilty. I knew I hadn't done anything wrong, but there was just something about that witch that made me feel like a kid caught stealing a biscuit.

"Yes, Professor?" I said, and I shifted uncomfortably when her dark eyes raked me over.

"I received your first report from Mr. Lupin yesterday," she began, and I braced myself for what was coming; the git had probably fabricated a million lies to make me look bad, and I knew McGonagall would believe him over me any day. Stupid Lupin and his stupid Prefect badge and his stupid smarmy charm that made all the teachers adore him…

"I must say, Miss Everlark, I am quite shocked, but pleasantly so."

She must have seen my blank look of confusion, for she produced a piece of parchment paper from one of her desk drawers with a flourish and waved it at me.

"Despite a rough start, in which you were tardy and made several pointed remarks at certain students – " I had to refrain from rolling my eyes at this. All I did was point out how awful McKinnon's and Evans' ideas were. It wasn't like I'd called them cows… Come to think of it, that's not a bad idea though. Maybe I'd do it next time they bothered me. " – Mr. Lupin reported that he was, in his own words, 'grudgingly impressed with your ability to come forth and present your ideas to the club, which were subsequently chosen by a majority vote and are now in the works of being implemented by Professor Flitwick.'"

She set the paper aside and looked at me over the tops of her square-rimmed spectacles, and if I wasn't mistaken, that was a bloody _smirk_ on her face. Okay, a half-smirk. Or maybe she just really needed to sneeze. But either way, I'd take it. At least she wasn't scowling at me!

"I hope this kind of participation continues, Miss Everlark," she said. "I think it would be very good for you in the long run."

I nodded, still dazed from her half-smirk. "I'll try, Professor."

"Good." She gave me a brisk nod, her half-smirk disappearing as her next class began to file in, her strict teacher persona taking over once more. "You may leave now."

I nodded again, bidding her goodbye as I started for the door. Unfortunately, I forgot that this was the class full of the seventh year Gryffindors, and I had to stifle a groan when I saw Black standing guard near the door, his mates already seated in the back row and glaring at me.

I looked over my shoulder to see if Professor McGonagall was noticing this, but she was apparently going over some kid's essay and critiquing it, leaving me to my own devices as Black crossed his arms, smirking arrogantly.

"Good day, Black?" I said, trying to keep the annoyance from my tone and failing miserably. I had a free block after this class, and I just wanted to enjoy it without having my good mood dampened by this prat.

"It's been all right, Pimply," he said, his smirk growing wider at my scowl. "About to get a lot better, I think."

"I wouldn't get your hopes up," I warned. "McG was telling my class about the birds you lot have to Transfigure into silverware, and let me just say that those things love to shite. Maybe you'll get lucky and be shat on first – a shame for those lovely locks of yours, but I think you'd deserve it."

"Speaking of McG, why'd she make you stay back?" he said, brushing off my insult with an eye roll. "She assign you more detentions after your _appalling_ behavior Wednesday?"

"Actually, no," I said brightly, turning to Lupin and fixing him with a sickeningly sweet smile. "Your mate Lupin here left me a glowing review, and now I'm back in her good graces."

Lupin shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable when all his friends turned to him in surprise, and I shot the squirming boy a wink that made him scowl darkly.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," I said, sidestepping Black and squeezing out of the classroom just as the bell rang, leaving Lupin to fend for himself behind me.

* * *

 _I'm going to kill Piper Everlark._

Remus sat fuming, the bell ringing just as said future-victim slipped out of the classroom, freeing Sirius to take his seat beside him, and his scowl deepened when he felt all his friends' eyes on him.

"Pimply's full of shite," Sirius scoffed, flipping his dark hair out of his eyes before fixing Remus with his sharp gaze. "Right, Moony?"

 _I can make it look like an accident. A terrible run-in with a Devil's Snare that could've happened to anyone._

Remus shifted in his seat, his fingers fiddling with the quill in front of him nervously.

"Er…not exactly."

James looked round at him incredulously. _"What?"_

Remus winced. "Look, it was one report! Why does it matter so much?"

"It _matters,_ Moony!" James whispered harshly. McGonagall had started speaking from the front, but that didn't deter the bespectacled boy from wringing Remus's ear off. "We joined this stupid club of yours in a combined effort to get Everlark kicked out of it! You can't be backing out on us now."

"I'm not!" Remus snapped, speaking out of the corner of his mouth while pretending to take notes on whatever McGonagall was saying. "How slick do you think it'd look if I completely thrashed her in my first report? McGonagall would know we were trying to purposefully sabotage her! We have to be smart at this, Prongs. It's got to be a gradual thing."

James looked thoughtful, but Sirius snorted.

"C'mon, that's a load of rubbish," he said skeptically. "I think he's going second-year soft again."

Remus felt his neck flush. "Sod off, Padfoot."

The other boy gave him a scornful look. "You do this at the beginning of every school year, Remus, and you need to cut it out. Pimply isn't who she used to be, and she never will be again. You need to get over that and move on. Stop hoping."

"When have I ever hoped?" he shot back. "She made her choice, and we _all_ moved on. Nothing left to it."

Sirius shrugged. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, mate."

Remus didn't have time to retort, for suddenly Professor McGonagall had sent them all tiny, twittering lime green birds to perch on their desks, stating that they needed to be able to turn each bird into silverware by the end of the lesson.

Remus remained silent, not wanting to further the argument with Sirius, but soon the entire thing was forgotten after Sirius's bird got a tad too excited and, indeed, shat on his head.

The other three Marauders had doubled over with laughter at the horrified expression on their mate's face, and Remus's good humor returned as the topic of Piper Everlark was dropped, though he couldn't help the uneasy feeling stirring in his gut that that wouldn't be the end of it.

Not by a long shot.

* * *

I didn't ask for a lot of things. Maybe a new pair of shoes every once in a while, and on my darker days, perhaps a new life, but other than that, I was practically an angel. However, some reevaluation might be in order as I looked down the corridor I was walking in and saw none other than my demon-spawned brother ducking into the boys' lavatory, looking very dodgy indeed.

A moment's peace, I decided. That's what I'm asking for now, because apparently everyone is hellbent on making my life stressful and miserable.

Heaving a great sigh, I started towards the loo, squaring my shoulders and putting on my best "authoritative-older-sister" face. I knew for a fact Archie was supposed to be in Herbology this block, yet here the little bugger was, skiving off. A part of me told me to just leave him be, he'd be caught and handed a detention soon enough (which would serve him right), but something in my gut insisted I should follow, so I did.

I barged through the door, wrinkling my nose at the smell before my eyes landed on Archie. He was standing by the furthest sink, and he jumped at the sound of the door, his blue eyes widening when he saw me in the mirror. He swore quietly and fumbled with his pockets, and that was when I noticed the small glass vial in his hand that he was hastily trying to stow away.

"What the hell, Piper?" he said incredulously. "This is the boys' loo!"

I raised my brows. "Oh, so you _do_ know where you are? Because this really doesn't look like the greenhouses, does it, Archie?"

"I wasn't feeling well," he mumbled, grabbing his bag off the floor and swinging it on his shoulder, avoiding eye contact, and my suspicion rose.

"That's what the Hospital Wing is for," I said.

"Right, er, so I should go," he said, nudging past me to the door, but I blocked his way.

"What's in your pocket?" I asked bluntly.

He scowled. "Nothing. Now move."

He tried to sidestep me, but I stepped in front of him again, crossing my arms.

"Do not make me grope you to find the damn thing," I warned. "I saw the vial, Arch, I'm not stupid."

"Could've fooled me," he muttered, physically pushing me out of the way, and I stumbled back into one of the sinks, my anger flaring.

I whipped out my wand, pointed it to his pocket and said, _"Accio_ vial!"

The little bottle soared into my hand and I caught it, only fumbling slightly as Archie whirled, his mouth agape as if he were shocked to realize that I could do magic, the little git. Who was the one to get their Hogwarts letter first? Certainly not him.

I held up the vial and peered at its contents, giving them a slight swish. A lilac-colored potion swirled within, and I recognized it immediately. Professor Slughorn had instructed us to make a Calming Draught not even a week ago, and this looked exactly like the potion.

As I stated above, I was not stupid. Ditzy? Yeah, all right, maybe. Stuck in my own world without a clue of what's going on around me? For sure. But _stupid?_ No way.

It was common knowledge within Hogwarts that there was some kind of illegal potion-making going on, and had been for several years. No matter how many precautions were taken or how many wards were set up around the Potions storage room, ingredients always went missing, and then the next few weeks' detentions were abundant for anyone caught having a potion on them and the Hospital Wing was crammed full of students experiencing side effects or bad reactions to having taken one of the potions. Calming Draughts and Sleeping Draughts were the most plentiful of the black-market potions, especially among the older students taking OWLs and NEWTs, but sometimes other concoctions would slip in with the rest, leading to nasty consequences. Once there was even a rumor that there was a bottle of Felix Felicis going around, but I didn't know if it was true or not.

Anyway, besides the whole illegal part, the potion-dealing at Hogwarts posed another problem: addiction. Calming Draughts especially were known for getting people hooked; something about a constant state of peace really seemed to get people, and while the brew may have been good to use every now and then, drinking too much of it led to a dependence on it, and withdrawals, and…well, you get the point. And now here I am, standing in the boys' lavatory with my brother, and holding a vial of said addicting potion in my hand. You can imagine I didn't take this lightly.

"You've got to be kidding me," I said in disbelief.

"It's not what you think," he protested, and I raised a brow. "I just…had some leftover from Slughorn's class when we brewed it. No big deal."

"That's a load of shite, Archie, and you know it," I snapped. I couldn't believe this git was _lying_ to me. "You don't learn Calming Draughts until N.E.W.T year. Who gave this to you?"

"It's none of your business," he said, glaring petulantly at one of the mirrors like a pouting child, and I suddenly wanted to punch him.

"Do you realize how dangerous this is?" I said, shaking the vial in his face. With every word, my voice seemed to go up an octave. "Archie, you could be expelled for this! Or worse, you can end up like one of those poor saps in St Mungo's who sit there drooling and hallucinating!"

"Bloody hell, Piper, you sound like Mum," he said, still glaring at the mirror and refusing to look at me.

"Who gave it to you?" I repeated forcefully, and his jaw stuck out further like it did whenever he was annoyed. He stayed silent, and I nearly screamed. Why were adolescent boys such a nightmare to deal with?

Obviously my anger and frustration were getting me nowhere, so I decided to try a different tactic.

"Archie," I said, making my voice soft and reassuring, and though his eyes narrowed, he still didn't say anything. "Look, I'm not going to get you in trouble, all right? I won't even rat on whoever gave the potion to you. I just want you to be safe, yeah? You're my brother."

"God, Piper, you're so transparent," he snapped, throwing up his arms and scowling at me. "Stop acting like you care, you know you don't! You just want to know because you're a nosy prat and can't keep out of everyone's shite without having a say!"

I stilled, staring hard at my brother. What was going on lately? Everyone seemed to be dragging me through the mud, and honestly, it was getting pretty tiring. First Black, then Lupin, Dorcas, Evans, and now my own _brother?_ Did I really deserve all this? I was just trying to help!

"You know what? Fine, whatever," he said, gesturing to me. "You want to know who I got it from? Regulus Black, and he got it from some Slytherin bloke in sixth. Happy now? Your curiosity satisfied?"

"What are you doing getting potions from Regulus Black?" was my snarky reply, but he only shook his head, turning for the door.

"Just stay out of my personal life from now on," he shot over his shoulder. "And if you have a problem with me associating with Black, then you just have to deal with it."

I gaped after him, gobsmacked, but before he could leave the door burst open and Filch shuffled in, wheezing and out of breath, but his eyes bulged when he looked first from Archie, then to me, still standing there with the potion in my hand.

"WHIMBLESBY!" he bellowed, starting forward, and I turned to Archie, who was staring at me wide-eyed.

"Run, you idiot!" I yelled, and he did, ducking Filch's hand before sprinting out of the lavatory, the caretaker shouting threats after him before turning on me, his nostrils flaring like a bull ready to charge.

"What's in your hand, Whimblesby?" he growled, swiping at the vial, but I pulled it out of his reach and ran into one of the stalls, locking the door behind me as Filch pounded his fist on it.

"Whimblesby, open this door!" he shouted, rattling the lock while I uncapped the vial, almost dropping it in the process. "Do you know how many detentions I'm giving you for this?"

"I'm guessing a lot?" I dumped the potion into the toilet, just as the lock shook out of place behind me, and my heart leapt into my throat as Filch began pushing open the door. If he saw the potion in the toilet, I was done for. All that effort to get a half-smirk from Minerva McGonagall would have been for naught, and I couldn't have that. I had to make her proud!

So, I did the only thing I could think of. Dignity be damned; it was time for a sacrifice.

I whipped down my skirt and yanked up my robes, hastily sitting on the toilet seat and nearly falling in just as Filch slammed open the door, both of us screaming as we made eye contact.

"Mr. Filch!" I cried, pretending to cover myself up, but you couldn't really have seen anything anyway with the voluminous robes we had to wear as part of our uniform. "Please, I'm sorry, I just had to use the loo!"

Filch's face was beet red, and I honestly thought the man was about to keel over and have a stroke. I could see a vein throbbing in his forehead, and he nearly tripped over himself as he backed out of the stall.

"You – outside – after – finish – detention!" he spluttered. He whirled around, all but fleeing the lavatory, and I breathed out a deep sigh, looking up from my lap only when I heard the door close.

I was _so_ screwed.

* * *

All my hard work, for nothing. Not even an hour after earning my half-smirk from McGonagall was I already back in her office, rubbing my arm from where Filch had locked it in a vice grip, and I was sure it would be bruised tomorrow as he went to fetch my Head of House.

McGonagall didn't even say anything to me as she wrote out a detention form, but I could sense the disappointment rolling off her in waves. The only sound in the office was her quill scratching on the parchment, and I wrung my hands in my lap, embarrassed and a little guilty. I had no regrets doing what I had done to Filch – I mean, he deserved it, just a bit – but knowing that McGonagall was now privy to it was mortifying. I'd be surprised if she ever looked at me again without having any images of me getting caught with my pants down in the boys' loo.

Wordlessly, she finished writing and handed me the detention slip, and I took it with a silent nod, too afraid to break the silence. I stood up and made my way to the door, but when I got there, I stopped and turned, seeing McGonagall already starting work on grading essays.

I swallowed nervously, stammering out, "Er, Professor, I—"

"That will do, Miss Everlark," she said coldly, and I winced.

I hurried out of her office, stuffing the detention slip in my bag without even reading it. I could feel my face burning, and the tip of my nose started to itch, a good indicator that I was about to start crying, but I fought the urge down. I was _not_ about to ruin my makeup.

I headed for the Great Hall, considering dinner was about to start and there would be no use returning to the common room, and I entered with my head down, starting for my usual seat with the others. I didn't see Archie, but that was for the best; I probably would've dragged him out of his seat and started pummeling him in front of the entire Hall, and though the idea was appealing, I'm sure Professor Dumbledore wouldn't approve.

"Why so glum, Pipes?" JJ asked as I sat down, and Dorcas rolled her amber eyes playfully.

"Don't worry, JJ, it's her new look," she said. "Doom and Gloom is in this season, apparently."

I knew she meant it as a joke, but I couldn't help scowling as I grabbed up a roll, taking a vicious bite out of it as Dom growled across from me.

"The lioness is displeased," he said in a shoddy imitation of an Australian accent. "She takes out her anger on the poor dinner roll before her, sinking her fangs into it whilst picking up the gravy dish – HEY!"

Dom grumbled as he set about trying to wipe gravy off his sleeve with a napkin, and I set the dish back down, finishing off my roll before plucking another one out of the basket, ignoring the incredulous looks I was receiving from my friends.

"Merlin, Pipes, what's got your knickers in a twist today?" Benjy said, and I shot him a withering look.

"Would you like the gravy treatment, as well, Fenwick?" I said, raising the dish threateningly, and he grinned nervously while nestling closer into Becca's side.

"No, really, Piper, what's wrong?" Becca asked, not bothering to push Benjy off, and normally I would've been giving her suggestive looks, but all I felt was frustration and annoyance, all aimed at myself.

"Got another detention," I mumbled, and Emmeline shook her head sadly.

"I thought McG was all right with you now?" she said, and I shrugged slightly.

"Guess not." I took another moody bite, and slowly conversation started back up again amongst my friends, everyone obviously getting the sense that I wanted to be left alone.

I was on my fifth roll when I saw the Marauders walk in. Well, more heard than saw, as they roared with laughter at something Potter must've said, strolling by us without a glance and taking their normal seats further along the table. I heard Black's laughter louder than the rest, and as if someone had commanded it, I stood up and shoved away from the bench, stalking down to where the four boys were sitting.

"Piper?" Emmeline called from behind me, but I ignored her.

"What's she doing?" Alfie asked, at the same time Dorcas swore. "Piper, get back here!"

Gritting my teeth, I marched along the table until I was level with them, plunking myself down next to Pettigrew, and their boisterous conversation ceased immediately, four pairs of eyes swiveling to me in shock.

"Couldn't keep away from me that long, eh, Pimply?" Black said, recovering his wits quickly and shooting me a wink, and I resisted the urge to vomit.

"Nice hair, Black," I said instead, gesturing to his wild curls, which were messier than usual. "Get shat on after all?"

He scowled, touching a self-conscious hand to his scalp, and I rolled my eyes as Potter cleared his throat, having found his voice again.

"Can we help you, Pimply?" he asked scathingly, his hazel eyes burning into my face, and I shrugged.

"You can't," I said, before looking pointedly at Black, "but _he_ can."

Black looked amused. "What do you need, Pimply? I'm sorry to say that I'm already shacking up with McKinnon—"

"As if I would ever be caught dead shagging you," I sneered. "It's about your brother."

The effect was instantaneous. Black's face instantly became guarded, his muscles tensing, while the other boys seemed to hold their breath, looking from me to him warily. Potter took his glasses off and began cleaning them nervously, while Pettigrew began to wolf his food down at an alarming rate, as if afraid Black would end up flipping the table. Lupin was the calmest out of the four, but I could still feel his eyes boring into me intently.

"What about him?" Black said, his voice casual, but I knew his flippant attitude was a front. Everyone was aware that the Black brothers had some serious issues, most likely stemming from the fact that Sirius was the first Black to ever be Sorted into Gryffindor while Regulus had joined the rest of his family in Slytherin, but I knew that was just the tip of the iceberg.

"I caught Archie skiving class today," I began, not needing to explain how he was my brother, for they were already well aware; git-by-association and all. "He had a vial of Calming Draught with him, and when I asked him where he got it, he told me Regulus had given it to him after getting it from some sixth-year Slytherin bloke."

Black cursed under his breath, sharing a significant look with the other three that I couldn't decipher.

"Thanks, Everlark," he said grudgingly, nodding to me, and I realized with a start that he hadn't called me Pimply. "I'll tell him to keep away from your brother; it's about time he and I had a little chat, anyway."

I nodded back. If there was one thing I prided in Gryffindors, it was their sense of loyalty; Black and I may have been enemies, but Slytherins were the greater foe. This was one thing we could agree on.

"I've got to get going," Lupin told the others, finishing up his dinner. "That detention starts at eight; Filch'll be waiting for me in the dungeons."

Speaking of detention… I grabbed the slip McGonagall had given me out of my bag and read it over, inwardly groaning when I saw the message: _Detention with Argus Filch, eight o'clock Thursday night, the twenty-eighth of September, cleaning cauldrons in the dungeons – no magic._

"Looks like you'll have some company," I said, waving my slip at him, and his face shifted quickly through alarm, annoyance, and acceptance before finally landing on resigned.

"Great," he muttered sarcastically as I stood up from the bench, though he had the decency to wait for me instead of leaving me in the dust.

He said goodbye to his friends and began walking, and after a moment's hesitation I gave them an awkward wave before hurrying after the sandy-haired boy, feeling a sense of nostalgia wash over me before I shook it off.

I noticed my friends staring after me with wide eyes when I walked past with Lupin, and I shrugged half-heartedly as we made our way out of the Hall. We garnered the attention of multiple people from all the tables, and while Lupin grit his teeth and kept marching, I glanced around at them all, seeing their baffled expressions and even overhearing some third-year Hufflepuffs speculating if we were going to have a duel in the courtyard.

I had to grin at this, nearly jogging to keep up with Lupin, and as soon as we were out of sight of the Hall I let out a snort. He turned to look at me, his expression clearly stating that he was not as amused as I was.

"So, should we go ahead and fight to the death or save that for another time?" I asked, and he rolled his eyes, wincing as he adjusted his bag on his shoulder. I pretended not to have noticed as we began to descend the steps to the dungeons, coming to a stop outside of the door before he pushed it open, leading us inside the Potions classroom, which was currently empty save for Filch and Mrs. Norris.

Filch's face turned purple when he saw me, and he avoided eye contact as I grimaced, the scene from the bathroom replaying in both of our minds in the same moment.

"You know the rules," he muttered. "No magic, no talking, no fighting, and no leaving until I dismiss you. Now get to work."

He hobbled out of the classroom quickly, Mrs. Norris padding beside him, pulling the door shut behind him with a resounding boom before his footsteps faded away on the stairs. I turned away from the door to see Lupin giving me an odd look, and I furrowed my brows. "What?"

"Filch looked about ready to piss himself when he saw you," he said. "What'd you do to him?"

"Oh, that," I said, twirling a loose curl around my finger and wincing. "Er, no idea. Maybe he had the runs or something; explains why he ran out of here so fast."

He looked skeptical, but didn't reply, instead grabbing up a brush and scooting a cauldron closer to him as he sat down, wrinkling his nose at the built-up filth inside of it. I followed suit, taking a cauldron and plopping down next to him, only to sigh when I felt his eyes on me.

"I'm not moving," I said, beginning to scrub the cauldron and nearly gagging when I saw the crusty residue inside that very much resembled vomit. "These cauldrons are heavy, and I'm not lugging them to another table."

"Suit yourself," he grumbled, and we fell silent as we continued working.

An hour passed without conversation until my hand started cramping and I had to set down my brush, flexing my fingers and rubbing the soreness out of my palm. I decided to take a break after seeing the stack of cleaned cauldrons before me, but unfortunately, once my hands were stilled, my mouth started moving.

"So, what are you in for?" I asked, gesturing to Lupin and frowning when I noticed how much bigger his clean pile was than mine.

He didn't look at me, continuing to scrub at his cauldron while I waited, but when it was clear he wasn't going to answer, I huffed out a breath.

"C'mon, Lupin, indulge me. We still have an hour left in here."

"Joy," he muttered, and I rolled my eyes.

"Seriously, what'd you do? It couldn't have been a prank; you lot haven't done one since sixth year. Hm. Roaming the castle after dark? Telling Professor Kettleburn to stick his peg leg where the sun doesn't shine?"

"I forgot to turn in an assignment to Professor Slughorn," he said finally, sounding annoyed, but that didn't deter me.

"Ugh. That is such a Prefect thing to get detention for."

"And you?" he asked testily. "Let me guess: making a first-year cry? Kicking some bloke in the bollocks? Or, wait – hexing an ex-boyfriend?"

"Try saving my brother's arse from having to do menial labor," I said, waving a hand to the cauldrons around us. "The more I think about it, though, the more I should've let him take the fall. I guess I'm too nice like that."

Lupin snorted incredulously, finally looking up at me, his brows raised. "'Nice' is not a word I would use to describe you."

I made a face at him. "Whatever. But like I said, I shouldn't have stuck out my neck for him – or, rather, flashed Filch for him."

Lupin barked out a laugh, and we both looked surprised at the sound before he grimaced, ducking his head and getting back to work.

"It's not like I'll even get a thank-you," I continued, tapping my fingernails on the table as I talked aloud. "He seems to hate me for whatever reason. Probably because of Dad, but still."

I shut my mouth after that, hoping that Lupin had tuned me out. I had a habit of oversharing, but he was one person I shouldn't spout about my personal life around. Who knew what he could do with that sort of information?

Fortunately, he gave no indication of having heard me, but since I was still bored and didn't feel like scrubbing anymore, I kept talking.

"How do you even forget to turn in an assignment?" I asked him. "I mean, I get it, I do it all the time, but you're supposed to be a good student and all that. What's your excuse?"

"I was ill," he said shortly, scrubbing vigorously at an orange stain that didn't seem keen on coming out, and I nodded, suddenly thoughtful.

"Yeah, I guess those full moons really take it out of you," I said, jumping in my stool when there was a sudden loud _crash._

Lupin was staring at me, his pupils dilated and his face drained of blood, and he mouthed wordlessly at me, the cauldron that he had been cleaning now lying on the floor, luckily unbroken.

"How – you – I—" he said hoarsely, and I just gave him a strange look, bending down to pick up the cauldron. "How did you - ?"

"Know?" I supplied, and he nodded, seemingly in a daze. "First year, remember? Well, you were in second, but I was still in first—"

"You remembered?" he whispered, his pale green eyes huge in his face. "After all this time?"

"What? Did you think I'd just conveniently forget my friend telling me that he's a werewolf?"

He looked to the door wildly, as if afraid he would find someone with their ear pressed against it listening to us, but after a few moments he cleared his throat uncomfortably, looking extremely awkward.

"Er, sorry," he said, still sounding shaken. "Um…"

He trailed off, uncertain, and I shifted in my seat, suddenly aware of the tension in the room. That same wave of nostalgia rolled over me again, and my mouth felt too dry, years' worth of memories and too many questions sitting on my tongue.

"Y'know, screw Filch," I said abruptly, getting up from my seat and grabbing my things. "You can tell him I left early, I don't care."

And without a backward glance, I hurried out of the room before I could remember that once upon a time, the boy sitting next to me who loathed me and whom I loathed back, had been one of my best friends.

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	7. The Augurey Predicts That You Are a Git

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **New year, new (long) chapter! Woo!**

 **Thank you for all the new favorites/follows (we're past 100!), and thank you as well to my reviewers from last time: Minzibaloo11, AshleyMarieD, wickedgrl123, Elara Perry, Epochs, Cae-Leigh Anne, Randommmfanatic, damnsonnn, lilrilakkuma, LoveFiction2016, heroherondaletotherescue, and The Silvernote!**

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Chapter Seven: The Augurey Predicts That You Are a Git

My morning started off with a pillow thwacking me across the face.

"Wha'?" I jerked awake, finding myself tangled in my sheets, and I struggled to get out. "Who's there?"

"The Bloody Baron," Dorcas said, rolling her eyes. "Get up, Pipes."

I moaned, snuggling back into my pillows. "Why? It's Saturday!"

"Yes, and we said we'd go to Em's practice today?" She said this in a tone that was probably supposed to make me feel dense, but I was so used to it that I barely even noticed.

I sighed, my face still buried in the pillows. "But it's Saturday," I said feebly, and I could sense the other girl putting her hands on her hips.

"Throw on some clothes and meet us down at the pitch. I'll even stop by the Great Hall and nip some food for us to take."

"Superb," I said, waiting until I heard the dormitory door close before I rolled over onto my back, staring at the scarlet canopy above me.

I hadn't slept a wink all night. The scene in the dungeons with Lupin kept playing over in my head, and it was driving me absolutely starkers. The whole thing had been odd enough, but the twisted reminder of our former friendship had made me feel antsy and uncomfortable. I'd only managed to get about halfway through my Transfiguration essay before calling it quits and storming off to bed, where I had done nothing but lie awake and dissect our detention together. I was glad I had escaped to my room when I did; I don't know what I would have done if I'd had to see him again so soon after.

 _The past is the past,_ I repeated to myself firmly. _Get over it._

Only marginally reassured by this thought, I crawled out of bed and got dressed, throwing my hair up in a ponytail instead of dealing with my mass of curls, especially since it was windy that day, the distant trees of the Forbidden Forest swaying with the gusts of air. I grabbed a scarf and made my way into the common room, only seeing a handful of people scattered about since any sane person would still be sleeping in before exiting through the portrait hole, the Fat Lady grumbling something about losing her beauty sleep behind me.

The sun had already cleared the horizon by the time I made my way outside, turning the sky a watery gold while fluffy clouds scurried past. The air held the faintest hint of frost, a reminder that autumn would be short-lived before winter held Hogwarts in its clutches once more, but I found the chill refreshing, and my steps became more lively as I followed the worn path to the Quidditch pitch.

The field was empty when I entered the stands, and I figured the team was still in the changing rooms as I quickly spotted Dorcas, Becca, Benjy, JJ, and Alfie and went to sit with them. Emmeline and Dom were both on the team, Em since our fourth year and Dom since third, and we always made it a habit to come watch them practice, even if that meant suffering through hours of Potter and Black throwing insults at us as they flew past.

I always wondered how Emmeline put up with being on the same team as them since she associated with me and they probably gave her hell for it, but she reassured me that they usually kept their teasing to a minimum on the pitch; I guess if there was one thing that could make Potter and Black set their berk streak aside, it was Quidditch.

"Ah! The Queen decides to grace us with her presence after all!" JJ said when he saw me approaching, and he made a big show of standing up and bowing to me. "How delightful! Simply scrumptious, I must say — "

"I'm not a treacle tart, J," I said, rolling my eyes as I plopped myself in between Dorcas and Alfie. "Now sit down before I jinx you."

"As you wish, milady," he said, bowing again and ducking when I swung a hand at his head.

"Morning, Pipes," Alfie said, handing me a stack of toast that I took gratefully and promptly began eating. "How was detention last night?"

I gave a noncommittal shrug, taking my time chewing to avoid answering. I hadn't told anyone that I had been locked in the dungeons with Lupin; it didn't seem that big a deal, honestly, but a part of me was reluctant to mention it. Maybe I was still wary about Dorcas and her warnings to back off the Marauders. Yes, that had to be it. That was one argument I would gladly not dredge up again.

When Alfie was still looking at me curiously (studying me in that creepy way of his, more like), I swallowed my bite and sighed. "Uneventful. I had to scrub cauldrons for two hours in the dungeons – _without_ magic."

He winced. "That's rough. Did Filch let you off early, though? You came back to the common room pretty fast."

I shrugged again, tearing off another bit of toast with my teeth, but Benjy had swung around in his seat to look at us from the row below.

"Filch would probably do anything for Piper now," he said with a devilish grin. "I mean, she _did_ flash him in the boys' loo yesterday."

Despite maintaining an air of nonchalance, I still flushed when everyone turned to me in amazement and incredulity, and I looked to Benjy with the promise of murder in my eyes. "How the bloody hell did you find out?"

"Heard Archie laughing about it with his mates last night," he said, and I groaned. With Archie's fat mouth, the whole school was bound to know by lunchtime.

"Piper, you continue to astound me every day," JJ said, a bit dreamily, and I suddenly wanted nothing more than to throw myself off the edge of the stands.

"What'd you flash _Filch_ for?" Becca said, her hazel eyes wide, and I scratched at my cheek absentmindedly.

"Well, you see, I really had to use the loo, so I ran in, and Filch thought I was up to something so he came after me, and, well…" I trailed off, waving a dismissive hand. "Unfortunately, Archie was there to witness my plight, so I've already resigned myself to the fate of being rumored to have started a sordid affair with the caretaker." Here I go again, protecting my prat of a brother. Stupid loyalty. I wasn't even a Hufflepuff!

It wasn't that I was embarrassed or ashamed of telling them about Archie and the potion I caught him with, but I was unsure of mentioning it. I didn't know if that had been the first time Archie had ever gotten ahold of a contraband Calming Draught, or if it was a regular thing, and if he was skulking about with Black's Slytherin brother… No, I couldn't tell them. Not until I found out what Archie was up to.

They all laughed at the end of my recount, much to my chagrin. Have I ever mentioned that I have the most terrible, unsympathetic friends? Really, you'd think I was Peter Pettigrew hanging around with the likes of them just for some validation, only to be continuously getting the piss taken out of like the rest of the Marauders did to that poor sod.

Wait a minute. Did I just compare myself to Peter Pettigrew? That was _sad._ Though now that I thought it, my traitorous brain wouldn't let me forget it.

Ah! Speak of the devil, and he doth appear. Or in this case, Peter Pettigrew, closely followed by Lupin, to my dismay, and the seventh-year Gryffindor girls, to my utter dismay. That's a lot of dismay.

The girls obviously saw us sitting near the front of the stands so they kept a few rows behind us, which I could tell they were disgruntled by. Lupin and Pettigrew sat with them, though they kept some space separating between them and the girls. Not that I could blame them. Evans didn't seem to be in a particularly good mood that morning, as evidenced by her glaring daggers at my head, or maybe it was just me who had that effect on her.

I tried my best to ignore them, but underneath Evans's stare I felt another pair of eyes boring into me, and the hairs on the back of my exposed neck prickled at the sensation.

"Finally," Dorcas said, lounging back in her seat and tossing her hair in a dramatic fashion, making me frown. She only ever did that when she wanted to impress someone. "Here they come."

I followed her gaze down to the pitch, where the Gryffindor team was walking from the changing room, all wearing red and gold practice uniforms and carrying their broomsticks over their shoulders. I spotted Emmeline in the back, struggling to hold both her broomstick and the trunk holding the practice Quaffles, Bludgers, and Snitch, and I guessed Potter was already lording his captaincy over her by making her do grunt work. Prick.

Captain Potter was saying something to them I couldn't hear, but in a few seconds all seven players had lifted off from the ground, beginning to circle the pitch on their brooms. We cheered and whistled when Emmeline flew past us, waving, and I smiled at how content she looked. She was always so shy, but something about Quidditch brought her out of her shell, and I loved seeing her so happy and carefree.

My smile turned into a grimace when Black raced past, his perfect hair flowing in the wind, and I heard Marlene McKinnon coo behind me, making me want to throw back up my toast. Potter followed him, and he waved to the seventh years behind us before giving me the finger. _Prick._

We watched the practice for an hour, in which time other Gryffindors began to show up and copy what we were doing. I kept my focus on Emmeline, silently cheering every time she blocked a goal, though Potter did manage to sneak one past her at the last second. She seemed frustrated after letting in his shot, but I watched as he hovered next to her on his broomstick, gesticulating wildly and saying something to her, and after he flew off she looked considerably better, a small smile even gracing her features.

I leaned close to Dorcas, about to ask if she had seen the odd exchange, when I noticed that her attention was focused somewhere behind us. I frowned, trying to get a glimpse of what she was looking at, but she turned then and gave me a weird look, my face uncomfortably close to hers.

"What are you doing?" she asked me as I straightened up.

"Being nosy," I replied airily.

She didn't seem the least bit surprised by this answer, but before I could pester her further, a voice from behind us called out, "Hey, Dorcas!"

I whipped around, my eyes going wide when I saw Mary MacDonald waving to my friend, a bright smile on her face. Dorcas waved back, a slight grin tugging at her lips, and I stared between her and the seventh-year girl, bewildered. I met Evans's gaze for a brief second, and the look in her eyes matched mine, wondering if we were seeing the hierarchy of our world falling apart. Dorcas and MacDonald were not friends. They were not on a first-name basis. What was going on?

"Have you lost your mind?" I hissed as Dorcas returned her attention to the players. "Since when are you such good mates with _MacDonald?"_

"We're not mates," Dorcas said, keeping her eyes on Dom as he streaked past in a blur of red and gold. "More acquaintances, really."

"You're fraternizing with the enemy!" I protested, and she gave me a dry look.

"Why are you being so dramatic?" she said, a teasing lilt to her voice, but I narrowed my eyes all the same. "It's not a big deal!"

"Like hell it isn't," I muttered. I crossed my arms, glaring out at the pitch, but when she kept her bemused gaze on me I sighed. "When did this…development happen?"

"About a week ago." She seemed wholly unconcerned at admitting this, which further confused and irritated me. "We got trapped in the library after Peeves began pelting people with Dungbombs in the corridor, and we just…started talking. She's not so bad, really. She said she felt rotten for going along with the Marauders all these years and watching them torment us."

I scoffed. "So, what? That makes up for years' worth of animosity? Wasn't she the one who told you not to get too close to her because she didn't want to catch any 'homosexual tendencies' in the third year?"

"She apologized for all her past actions," she said, frowning, "which is more than you've done."

 _And_ we're back to the Marauders.

"I don't have to apologize for anything," I said, scowling. "Not after all they've done."

Dorcas didn't reply, but when I cast a sidelong glance to her, she was staring moodily out to the goalposts. I was secretly glad to avoid another confrontation with her, but I knew she was only biding her time before she broached the topic again, and I had a gut feeling that it wouldn't be so amicable the next time.

Potter called it quits for the day and the team began to trudge back to the changing rooms, the Gryffindors in the stands dispersing as well. I was still perturbed from my conversation with Dorcas, hardly noticing when Potter made Dom carry the trunk back this time while he walked with Emmeline, apparently continuing whatever conversation they were having near the goalposts earlier.

As I got up to follow my friends back to the castle, I saw Evans again, though this time her eyes were locked on Potter and Emmeline, and I carefully stored this image away in my head before we departed the stands.

I trailed a little behind everyone else, wrapped up in my thoughts, but no one seemed bothered by my absence. I was crossing the courtyard alone when a sudden hand gripped my elbow, and before I could even protest I was whisked away, my spine going stiff when I realized that it was Lupin who had a hold on me.

I said nothing as he led me to the secluded space he had taken me to a couple weeks ago, when he had warned me of not messing with his precious club, and even though the last thing I wanted was to be alone with him again, I couldn't help appreciating the solitude and quiet the place provided.

"I didn't know you were the dark corners and air-of-mystery type," I said when he released me, though my jab was devoid of any of its usual sting, which he seemed to notice, for he only frowned.

"I wanted to speak to you about last night," he said, and when I merely stared at him, he elaborated. "In the dungeons, with the cauldrons — "

"Well, I'm glad you cleared that up," I said with a snort. "I was worried something else might have happened last night that I couldn't remember."

 _There_ was the eye roll I was looking for.

"I meant our…conversation," he said, looking out to the distant mountains as he spoke and making the early morning light throw his face into a wan contrast.

"It was just a conversation, Lupin," I said, tugging on my ponytail awkwardly. "I think we said enough already."

He looked uncomfortable, but there was something almost desperate in his green eyes.

"Just – I…I didn't know," he said, and I raised my brows as he struggled to speak. "I forgot that you knew about my…furry little problem, or whatever you want to call it. I-I guess I tried so hard to put the past behind me that I didn't even realize I had ended up trying to forget everything that much."

"Yeah, well, you're not the only one," I mumbled, not meeting his eyes, and suddenly all I wanted to do was run away screaming. _Why_ was he talking to me about this? All it was doing was stirring a pot of memories I had kept sealed for so long, and no way was I removing that lid.

"You were my friend," he said, and I flinched back as if he had struck me. "And I'm sorry — "

"Don't," I snapped, my anger flaring. I took a step back, and he watched me questioningly, his eyes swimming with a thousand memories that I wanted nothing more than to burn.

"You don't get to say sorry. You made your choice, and you've lived beautifully with it for so long. One simple trip down memory lane isn't enough to make up for everything that's been said and done since then. We may have been friends, but we are _not_ now, and we will _never_ be again. So just – stay away from me until you graduate, you hear? I'll be part of your barmy club, but don't pretend like we can chuck everything under the bridge and be fine. I won't do it."

And with that I turned and stomped away before he could see the tears gathering in my eyes.

* * *

 _"You were my friend."_

The words came back to taunt him Monday morning in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he sent his spell whizzing at Peter more forcefully than he meant to, the mousy boy barely able to produce a shield strong enough to deflect it.

 _"You don't get to say sorry."_

He grit his teeth, flicking his wand and saying the enchantment in his head as his own shield bloomed before him to deflect Peter's futile attempt at a silent Disarming Spell. James and Sirius practiced next to them, both boys attacking and dodging in silence, their technique nearly flawless from so many years spent sparring one another, but the professor was too busy sitting at her desk and reading _Witch Weekly_ to bother awarding them any points.

 _"You made your choice."_

Peter was sweating, his face red from exertion, and normally Remus would have started going easy on him at this point, but his anger was fueling his attacks, making them more rapid and more powerful, even though his friend was barely keeping up a suitable defense.

 _"We may have been friends, but we are_ not _now, and we will_ never _be again."_

 _"I won't do it."_

He slashed his wand violently, and there was a flash of light before Peter yelped, suddenly dangling five feet above the class after an invisible force had hoisted him up by his ankle. The class roared with laughter, and Remus felt himself flush.

"Sorry, Pete," he said, muttering the countercurse and letting the boy back down, getting up and dusting off his robes.

"It's fine," the blond boy said, though his face was rather pink. "Let's take a breather, yeah?"

Remus nodded, and he rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably as the class went back to their own spars. The professor hadn't even looked up at the commotion.

"Nice one, Moony." James grinned at him as he and Sirius ambled over to them, but Remus only offered a curt nod in return.

"What flea's in your fur today?" Sirius asked him, smirking. He'd always been notorious for making awful jokes about Remus's lycanthropy, but he'd become unbearable since they had finally achieved their Animagus forms the previous year.

"You continue to dazzle me with your wit, you sly dog," Remus replied moodily, and despite his monotone, Sirius barked out a laugh.

Remus sighed, closing his eyes. "It's nothing. I just didn't sleep well last night."

James looked concerned, dropping his voice to a hush. "Are you still not recovered from last week? That was a pretty nasty moon — "

"No, it's not that," he said, shaking his head. "I just had a lot on my mind."

The other boys all looked sympathetic, but they said nothing as the bell rang to dismiss them from class.

They gathered their things and departed the classroom, making their way down to the Great Hall for lunch. Remus excused himself to the loo before they ate, and he dawdled in the corridor until his friends were out of sight, turning away from the lavatory and beginning to trace the longest route to the Hall in the hopes that in the meantime he would be able to dispel all thoughts of his conversation with Piper Everlark from his head.

He didn't even know why he had felt such an insistent need to seek her out Saturday morning, but their strange encounter in the dungeons had left him rattled. Too many memories had been flooding his brain since then, snapshots of a time he had nearly forgotten, and desperation had driven him to pull her aside and see if she was experiencing any of the same things he was, needing to know if she was going as mad as he was over the exchange. They were supposed to hate each other, after all; reminders of the past were the last thing he wanted, or needed.

But then…

 _"We are_ not _friends."_

She'd spat the words at him, but he had seen it; the smallest glimmer of sadness in her eyes, the tiniest sliver of a door he knew led to the same things he was feeling: nostalgia, confusion, anger, hurt, and a buried seed of guilt he hadn't known was there.

He found himself stopped before one of the windows on the third-floor corridor, peering out at the blustery grey afternoon. His shoe scuffed on a burn mark on the floor just below the sill, and he started when he realized that he knew where it had come from. Second year – he, James, Sirius, and Peter had gotten the idea to pop off Whizbangs in the corridor during a passing period their first week back at school, although one had been faulty and didn't set off like it was supposed to, instead careening back to the floor, in the precise spot Remus had been standing, unaware that he was about to be burned by an exploding cascade of sparks. Only he hadn't been burned, because a tiny first-year had plowed into him, shoving him roughly out of the way. The Whizbang had hit the floor with a sparkling flourish that made everyone gathered clap wildly, but he had only stared like a gaping idiot at the girl who had shoved him, her wild black hair dyed with a chunky red streak that was a match to the scarlet on her Gryffindor tie, if only a few shades off.

"Er…thanks," he'd said, still staring at the girl with wide eyes as a thick blanket of smoke began to smother the corridor, sending students rushing off around them.

"You're an idiot," was her only response before she had shouldered her bag and began striding off, following the retreating backs of the other students.

"Hey, wait!" She'd stopped walking and turned at the sound of his voice, and he gave her a sheepish grin, scratching the back of his neck. "What's your name, firsty?"

She tracked her eyes over him, a startling blue, like robin eggs, and he'd suddenly felt self-conscious, acutely aware of his shabby secondhand robes and too-pale face, the full moon only days away, and he'd turned his cheek when her eyes fastened on the healing scar burrowed into his chin, regretting having said anything to her now.

"I'm Piper Everlark," she'd finally said, and his eyes snapped back to her face to see a tiny smirk on it. "And you're welcome, by the way."

She nodded her head to the burn mark on the floor that he could already imagine Filch cursing them for, but when he looked up she was already flouncing away, down the same corridor he now stood in five years later.

The memory had resurfaced from some unwelcome place in the back of his mind that he had no desire to ever unleash again, and after casting a dark scowl to the burn mark in the floor, he walked away to join his friends in the Great Hall, ignoring the throbbing spot in his chest where once another friend had been.

* * *

"Why, exactly, are we doing this?"

Dorcas didn't even bother to deign this with a response.

I puffed along after her as we made our way across the lawn, the edge of the Forbidden Forest appearing before us as we crested the small hill that would take us down to the small outdoor classroom where Professor Kettleburn's Care of Magical Creatures lessons were held.

Professor Loon had canceled our Divination class that day, insisting he needed to "rest his Inner Eye" (meaning he'd gotten uproariously drunk at The Three Broomsticks again the night before and was now nursing a nasty hangover), but instead of being normal people and staying in the castle, Dorcas had come up with the brilliant plan to join Becca and Benjy in their Care of Magical Creatures lesson and had dragged me along despite my protests.

"Dor, c'mon. There's way better things we could be doing than crashing Kettleburn's lesson," I said, nearly jogging to keep up with her much longer strides. "Have you forgotten that the nutter hates me?"

Dorcas finally found it acceptable to look at a lowly commoner such as myself, though her expression was skeptical. "Pipes, you've never even _had_ a lesson with him. How is that possible?"

"Remember last year when he got a new wooden leg?"

Dorcas frowned. "Vaguely. Becca said he'd had it imported from Prague because something happened to his old one." She suddenly groaned. _"Please_ tell me you had nothing to do with that."

I winced. "Surprise?"

She shook her head, her golden hair shimmering in the weak autumn light. "How does that even happen?"

"Well, after I jinxed Pettigrew to tap dance in the corridor and put a Body-Bind on Black to lay him in front of the stairs so Pettigrew would trip over him — "

"Which was _dangerous,_ and something you could've gotten charged with if Pettigrew _had_ fallen," Dorcas broke in, but I waved her off.

"It was the staircase that turned into a slide!" I protested. "I'm not some mad killer!"

"Yet," Dorcas added. "You _have_ expressed homicidal tendencies in the past…"

"You'd be comfortable with the idea of murder too if you had Archie for a brother," I pointed out, and she grimaced.

"Touché," she said, "but continue your thrilling tale."

"Anyway, after McKinnon had caught me before I could finish the deed and Evans had run crying to McG, I was assigned to detention in the Forest with Kettleburn. He had me build this giant bonfire at the tree-line – "to ward off any wandering bloodthirsty beasts," he told me, but I bet he made me do it because he wanted to watch my arse as I picked up sticks — "

Dorcas shuddered. "Please don't ever put that image into my head again."

I shot her a lascivious grin. "No promises," I said. "But I guess at one point he got tired of wearing his wooden leg and had dozed off, and since it was getting dark and I didn't have a lamp at the time, I must've picked it up and chucked it into the pile. I woke him up after I had already started the fire, but by then it was too late. So long peg leg."

"How you've even made it this far without being expelled is beyond me," Dorcas said, though a small chuckle escaped from her all the same.

I shrugged. "It's not like I intentionally do bad things – most of the time. It just sorta…happens."

"If you at least make it to graduation, I'll be happy," she said.

I wanted to ask if that meant I could still have my way with the Marauders as revenge for the past, but we had already reached the small class, and we sidled into the group silently near the back, trying to keep our heads down.

The class was fewer than a normal-sized lesson, considering most people dropped the course after their OWLs, which meant that students from every House were in the same class, along with combining both the sixth- and seventh-years, who were either required to take the course or just wanted to have something to fill an elective space. As such, I was annoyed to see a handful of people I'd rather not, among those being Potter, Black, Mary MacDonald, and – _shite_ – Bertram Aubrey. There was also a gaggle of Slytherins who I particularly despised, including Logan Wilkes, Evan Rosier, Corban Yaxley, and Emma Vanity, though I did my best to ignore them.

"Off you git, and don' bother askin' me any damn questions," Kettleburn said from the front of the gathered students, and I waited until he was well out of sight before I followed Dorcas to where Becca and Benjy had taken their place at one of the wooden picnic tables littering the space of trampled grass near the trees.

"Loon went off on another bender," Dorcas was explaining when I parked myself on the bench next to Benjy, "so we thought we'd stop by and learn about some – " she glanced down at Becca's chart on the table – "Augureys."

"Well, you came on the right day," Benjy said cheerfully, whistling as he pulled out his copy of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ and plonked it on the table, flipping to the chapter on Augureys. "Augureys are amazing creatures; y'know, people actually used to believe that the cry of the Augurey foretold someone's death, but research shows that they actually use their cries to predict rain, according to Newt Scamander — "

"Benj, I came here to skive, not actually learn anything," Dorcas said flatly, and Benjy's ears went faintly pink. He began to busy himself with the chart in front of him, and I glared at Dorcas while she chatted with Becca. I knew Benjy had wanted to be a Magizoologist ever since I'd met him and the bloke was super passionate about it, so I turned to him in interest.

"So, what came first, the Augureys or auguries?" I asked him jokingly.

He didn't acknowledge what I was doing, but I could see the thanks in his eyes. "That's a bit of a paradox, isn't it? Did the Augurey get its name from the art of auguries, or were the auguries derived from the Augurey itself?"

"You tell me," I said, hiding my smile from the palpable air of eagerness to answer the question that surrounded him.

"I think it's neither, but also both. And I believe it's more of a metaphor than a paradox, really, in that each one was probably inspired or recognized as the other, sort of playing off each other over time."

"One hundred points to Gryffindor, Mr. Fenwick!" I announced dramatically, giving him a round of applause.

"If I wasn't mistaken, Padfoot, I'd say that annoying voice belonged to none other than Pimply," said a voice behind us. I turned, sighing when I saw Potter and Black strolling towards our table, MacDonald trailing uncertainly behind. She looked out of place without one of the other seventh-year Gryffindor girls by her side, but she kept some distance between herself and the two boys, looking like she'd rather not be there.

"Ah, I was wondering where that stench was coming from," I said. "I'm surprised flies don't follow wherever you go, Potter, considering you're a living, breathing arse."

"Come here to catch up with dear Aubrey, love?" said Black with false sweetness. "Sorry to say, but he's off the market now; dating some sixth-year Hufflepuff, I heard. Though maybe he'll be available again when it comes time for you to pass all your NEWTs."

"Do you know what an Augurey is, Black?" I said, holding up Benjy's chart. "They're supposed to predict weather forecasts, though I'm sure if one were here it'd predict you as the world's biggest git and confirm what we've all been thinking for a while now."

"Now, now, Pimply, is that any way to talk to someone who used to be your best mate?" Potter said, and I froze after sharing a grin with Benjy, my lips locking in the gesture.

Slowly, I turned to face Potter again. "Sorry?" I said, even though I knew exactly what he was referring to. My stomach squirmed uncomfortably when he gave me a wicked smirk, Black's expression mirroring his.

"You heard me, Pimply," he said, seeing right through my act of nonchalance. "You thought we wouldn't piece together what went on between you and Remus in the dungeons on Friday?"

"What the hell is he on about?" Becca demanded, and I winced when I felt my friends' gazes pinned to me.

"Nothing," I ground out, fixing Potter and Black with the darkest glower I could conjure, but their glee only seemed to grow.

"Aw, don't you remember the good ol' days, Freak? I know you do, Amazon."

Dorcas and Becca now looked highly uncomfortable, while Benjy stared in bewilderment.

"Potter," I said, trying to keep the pleading edge out of my voice. "Don't."

"C'mon, Pimply, second year? When you were nothing but an ickle firsty?" Black taunted, and I clenched my fists. "You, me, James, Remus, Peter. The best mates Hogwarts had ever seen. Thick as thieves."

"That's over," I managed to get out through my gritted teeth. "Now piss off."

"That's not what Remus thinks," said Potter waspishly. "I think _you_ need to be the one to piss off, Pimply. Stop playing with his head."

"I'm not doing anything!" I cried. "He's the deluded one who keeps trying to bring up the past!"

"Just stay away from him, Pimply," Black warned, his grey eyes cold. "All you do is bring trouble."

"That's rich, coming from you," I spat, suddenly furious. I was _so sick_ of everyone blaming me for everything. "Why don't you try ignoring me and my mates for a change instead of making our lives so miserable?"

Black's sneer would have been enough to deter anyone at that point, but I'd been on the receiving end of it so many times it barely fazed me. "We wouldn't have to keep putting you in your place if you'd just stop being a whiny, pathetic little brat."

I sprung to my feet, ripping my arm out of Benjy's grasp when he tried to pull me back.

"Screw you, Black," I said savagely. "Just because everyone else is expected to treat you like royalty doesn't mean that I have to sit back and kiss your arse like your mummy when she wipes it for you — "

"Back off, Everlark!" Potter said, shoving in front of Sirius when his hand dipped dangerously for the wand in his pocket. I hardly cared that we were beginning to attract the attention of the rest of the class while Kettleburn was mysteriously absent; I had never been angrier. Who did they think they were, talking to me like this, as if everything was _my_ fault?

"Don't tell me what to do, Potter!" I snapped. "If Black wants to have a go then he'll get one."

"Stop being such an immature prat and sod off," Potter said, scowling. "You wonder why everyone hates you and then you go around doing shite like this and call yourself the victim when people turn on you and call you out for what you really are: a _bitch."_

I felt like I had been slapped. Red tinted the edges of my vision, and before I could even process it, my body was already moving forward. I slammed into Potter, tackling him to the ground, and for a few seconds my world was nothing but a blur of yellowed grass scratching against my skin, the grey sky above, and Potter's flailing body beneath me as we rolled over and over, not exactly hitting each other, but rather attempting to crush the other with our body weight alone; which wasn't exactly a fair fight, considering how small I was, but damn Potter if he thought he was going to humiliate me like that.

A sudden blast made us spring apart, and I landed with a hard thud on the ground some distance away, scrambling to my feet as Potter did the same, his hair wilder than ever and his glasses askew.

I shook my curls out angrily, grass falling out as I did, and reached for my wand, only to have Dorcas point her own at me, realizing that she had been the one to separate Potter and me.

"Piper," she said, her voice deadly calm. "Let's go."

I stared mutinously at her, my blood still boiling, but her tone left no room for argument. The crowd watching was whispering to each other, casting me disdainful looks, and I grabbed up my bag, doing my best to ignore them as I began to shoulder my way through.

"A shame," a voice drawled behind me, and I recognized the jeering tone of Corban Yaxley. "Things were just getting interesting. Who was your money on, Rosier? The Mudblood or the blood traitor?"

Dorcas didn't even try to stop me as I whirled around and pounced on Yaxley, just as Potter and Black collided with Rosier and Wilkes. Emma Vanity shrieked as I jumped on Yaxley's back, attempting to get him in a headlock, but he was thrashing too much for me to get a solid grip, staggering around and bellowing like a bull as I hung on for dear life.

I glimpsed Potter rolling on the ground again, tangled up with Rosier, though this time his glasses were missing and he was pummeling every inch of the Slytherin he could reach, Rosier attempting to defend himself beneath the furious Gryffindor. Black was circling the mountainous Wilkes, his nose bleeding profusely while Wilkes sported a split lip and an eye that was rapidly swelling. No one seemed keen to jump in and help us, as I spotted Dorcas and MacDonald clutching on to one another apprehensively, Becca standing nearby with her hands clasped over her mouth and Benjy looking as if Christmas had come early, though he did have the decency to look enraged on my part.

"Gerroff me!" Yaxley grunted, attempting to back up into a tree so he could crush me between it and him, but I kicked the back of his knee to make him stumble.

"Fat chance," I said, scratching at his hands when he tried to reach back and grab me, and he cried out (probably more from anger than pain) just as Kettleburn roared, "WHAT IN BLEEDIN' 'ELL IS GOIN' ON HERE?!"

Everyone froze, Potter and Rosier still on top of each other in the grass while Wilkes paused mid-swing, Black looking as if he were getting ready to tear the Slytherin to shreds, and I felt the professor's eyes sweep over me, still on Yaxley's back while the boy's hand bled slightly from my nails.

"Class dismissed," Kettleburn rumbled, and there was a flurried frenzy of movement as students grabbed their things and darted off, already clamoring over what had happened.

I slipped off Yaxley's back, throwing the Slytherin one last contemptuous glare before accepting my bag from a silent Becca and starting for the castle, only for Kettleburn to say, "Not you lot."

He was glowering at me, Potter, Black, and the three Slytherin boys, and we grudgingly stayed behind as our respective friends left, not one of us saying a word and not looking each other in the eyes.

"That was a disgustin' display if I ever saw one, an' I've worked 'ere since before your parents were even born," Kettleburn said, spitting on the ground where Potter and Rosier had been a moment before. "All of you will be hearin' from your 'eads of 'ouses later today once I explain what happened, and – why in Merlin's staff are _you_ 'ere?"

The grizzled professor's eyes had fallen on me, and he imperceptibly shifted his wooden leg behind him as I shrugged.

"Got bored," I replied flatly, anger and adrenaline still coursing through me, and though his eyes narrowed, all he said was, "Git outta 'ere before I think about takin' a 'undred points off each of you. Go on; scram."

We didn't stick around long enough for him to make good on his threat, and the three Slytherins trailed behind us by a few paces as we trudged back to the castle in silence. We reached the double doors of the Entrance Hall, the sounds of lunchtime in the Great Hall floating out to greet us, but I stopped when Potter and Black were no longer beside me, turning to see them standing on the threshold and waiting for the Slytherins, arms crossed.

I marched back to them, about to ask if they wanted to make our punishment worse if they attacked the Slytherins again, but I halted right by Potter's shoulder as he glared out at the three and said, "If you ever call her or anyone else that filthy word ever again, you'll have _me_ to answer to."

He jerked his head to me when he said it, and I was slightly stunned that he was defending me, even if I was a little miffed about it.

"And if you ever want to find out who would've won, we'll be happy for a rematch," said Black viciously, an almost predatory gleam in his eyes, and I realized then why some people were so intimidated by the two boys.

"And we extend the same courtesy to you," Rosier sneered, his usually perfect hair and immaculate robes in wild disarray and covered in dirt, but he still managed to look just as threatening.

"See you around, _Gryffindors,"_ Yaxley said, nearly spitting out the word as they brushed past us, Wilkes making sure to slam his shoulder into Black before they retreated to their dungeon common room to lick their wounds, as I imagined, but I knew with a sort of sinking feeling that they would probably already be planning their retaliation against us.

"I can defend myself," I said when they were gone.

I expected Potter to go flying into a rage, but to my shock he merely glanced me over, a hint of a smirk on his face, and said, "I know."

"C'mon," said Black sullenly, not looking in my direction. "Let's eat before Kettleburn tells Minnie; I'd rather not die on an empty stomach."

* * *

 **Please review! I always love to hear your thoughts!**

 **Next chapter we'll be back in the club, if anyone has been missing it as much as I have :)**

 **xx**


	8. It's All Just Acting, Right?

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **Hello, and welcome back! Sorry for the delay, but the semester is almost over so I can finally be able to get some more free time to write. I hope this chapter makes up for the wait.**

 **Also, you may or may not have noticed, but this story has gone from a T to an M rating. I have several reasons for doing this, but all will be revealed in good time. If you have any questions, feel free to leave it in a review or shoot me a PM. I'm always happy to talk with my readers!**

 **Thank you for all the favorites/follows, and thank you to my reviewers from last time: heroherondaletotherescue, Minzibaloo11, The Silvernote, RunningGolden, Randommmfanatic, AshleyMarieD, HappyTerrier, ARandomAuthor14, Cae-Leigh Anne, LoveFiction2017, dleshae, and Guest!**

* * *

Chapter Eight: It's All Just Acting, Right?

To say Professor McGonagall was livid would be a severe understatement.

After a long, winded speech about dishonoring the name of Gryffindor House and how our families would be hearing about this, she finally calmed down enough to concede the point to us that the Slytherins had deserved it, and that was when I knew she didn't hate us entirely. Say what you want about Minerva McGonagall, but that woman did not take things lying down, and – dare I say it – I think she was a little proud of us for standing up to the snakes like that.

"You two are free to go," she said to Potter and Black twenty minutes later. "Your detentions will start next Monday – and don't make any plans for the next few weeks, boys. I am sure Mr. Filch will have plenty of cleaning for you to do."

"But what about Quidditch?" Potter demanded, though his tone became less sharp when McG raised her eyebrow at him. "Our first match is at the end of the month! We need to practice!"

Black nodded vigorously beside him, and I rolled my eyes when he gave the stern witch one of his charming grins.

"Accommodations can be made and schedules rearranged, Mr. Potter," she said, seemingly close to rolling her eyes herself, though I could see the fondness behind her strict demeanor. "Now, get to your afternoon lessons. Miss Everlark and I have a few more things to discuss."

 _Oh, great._

I tried not to let my anxiety show as Potter and Black shuffled out of the office without a backward glance, but I guess I did a shabby job of hiding my squirming as Professor McGonagall edged her tin of biscuits towards me.

"Take one and stop fidgeting, Miss Everlark," she said to me. "You're not in any more trouble than those two mischief makers."

I took a biscuit silently and bit into it, my stomach calming some as I chewed and waited for her to speak with mild confusion. If I wasn't in trouble, then what was I still doing here?

"Well, that was quite a sight I hadn't witnessed in some time," she said, and I blinked. "Typically, you, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Black are on the opposite sides of a conflict; it surprised me, to say the least, when Silvanus reported to me that you fought on the same side as them. And when you were all here just now…"

Was this supposed to make me stop fidgeting? Because I was pretty sure I was writhing in my seat from discomfort now. How is this helping me, McG?!

I took another bite of biscuit, hoping I'd start choking on it just so I could avoid the awkwardness of this conversation. Why was everyone so damned intent on bringing up the past? Seriously, couldn't we just let it go at this point? Just let me live my petty life, please!

Shite. She was staring at me as if waiting for a response. Had she said something else that I missed while I was internally screaming?

"Er…yeah," I said intelligently. When she kept staring at me I had to look away, shoving the rest of the biscuit into my mouth. I began wishing she had given me one with nuts in it just so I could have an allergic reaction and leave. Maybe I could still fake one.

"Miss Everlark." She made my name sound like a weary sigh, and instantly my muscles tensed. I could sense a Dorcas "the-past-is-in-the-past" speech coming on, and suddenly I was so, so tired, and so, so annoyed.

"Look, Professor, I'm not trying to sound rude here or anything, but could we not talk about the old days? It's just – everyone has been on my case about the Maraud – _boys_ – and frankly, I'm very sick of it. I'm sick of being reminded that they used to be my friends, I'm sick of everyone telling me to back off them – I'm just tired of it. Yeah, surprise, we used to be best mates, but people change. We grow up, we move on. Why can't I be allowed to do that without everyone throwing the past in my face?"

She stared at me for a long time, not speaking. So long, in fact, that I began to wonder if I should just leave. But finally, she adjusted her square-rimmed spectacles and spoke.

"I understand clearly, Miss Everlark, and I will not press the matter further at your behest. However, I would also like to point out that yes, while people grow up and move on, as you put it, that sort of thing can also be for the better. Perhaps that is something you should think about."

I wanted to argue, but I knew it was pointless. She had that "don't-question-my-wisdom" expression on her face, and honestly, I was so done with getting into trouble that I felt like I needed to sleep for three days straight.

"Thanks, Professor," I said. "I'll keep that in mind. May I go now, please?"

She pursed her lips, but otherwise nodded. "You may. Have a good day, Miss Everlark."

After bidding the professor farewell, I exited the office, letting the door close behind me. No sooner had it clicked into place then a voice spoke directly beside me, and I let out a colorful swear.

"So, did Minnie force you to join anymore clubs after your brawl with Yaxley?"

I spun around, scowling when I saw Potter leaning against the wall next to the door. He looked like he'd lost a fight with a cat, with his hair more disheveled than usual and numerous scratches and bruises littering his skin, but he still had the audacity to smirk at me.

"No, surprisingly," I said. "How was wrestling Rosier, by the way?"

He grinned, though it came out more like a snarl at the mention of the Slytherin. "Fantastic. My fist is already aching to meet his face again."

I stared at him. "That has got to be one of the most cringeworthy things I have ever heard you say, and you've said a lot over the years, Potter."

He grimaced. "Like that time in third year when I wrote that poem for Evans on Valentine's?"

I had to let out a snort at that. "No, that one definitely takes the cake. Sometimes I wake up in a cold sweat just recalling it from memory."

His lips twitched, but when we made eye contact we both burst into laughter. I gripped my sides as I laughed, clutching the stitch that was forming, and Potter positively howled, clapping his hands together in mirth.

We made eye contact again, and as suddenly as it had come, we stopped, the corridor falling into awkward silence as we both looked away, unsure of what had just happened. What _did_ just happen? It was like for a few minutes we had completely forgotten we hated each other. Was I going mad? Was I finally starting to crack?

"Where's Black?" I asked nonchalantly, partly to smooth over the tension, and partly because I was afraid the other boy would jump out and hex me; after all, I _did_ make some pretty nasty digs at him before the brawl with the Slytherins.

Potter shrugged, scratching at the stubble on his cheek uncomfortably. "Went back to the common room. I stayed behind – wanted to see if you were all right."

I blinked. This day was getting weirder and weirder, and I wanted it to stop. Since when did Potter ever want to see if I was all right?

"Er, I'm fine, thanks," I said.

"What Yaxley said…" He clenched his fists, breathing out through his nose. "He's vile. No one deserves to be called that."

"It's fine," I said, fiddling with the sleeve of my robes. "I've been called much worse, trust me."

I couldn't help the pointed look I gave him, but shockingly, Potter flushed, looking abashed.

"I didn't mean what I said earlier," he said. "I was just sticking up for Sirius, and I lost my cool for a second. I don't – I don't think you're a bitch, Everlark."

He sounded sincere, and that was what rattled me. Seriously, _what_ was going on today?!

"It's fine," I repeated. I scratched the side of my nose awkwardly. "Let's face it, I need to be knocked down a few pegs every once in a while."

He smirked at me, and slowly, I grinned back. He pushed off from the wall and clapped my shoulder, and my knees nearly buckled – damn, the lanky bloke was stronger than he looked.

"Well, I'd best be off," he announced. "See ya, Everlark."

I waved, but he stopped just before he turned the corner, turning back and eyeing me with an unreadable expression.

"He misses you, you know," he said, and my heart pinched sharply. "He tries not to let on to it, but I think he has for a while now."

I said nothing, only staring blankly at him, and he gave me a roguish wink and a salute before he was gone, leaving me standing alone in the corridor like a dumbstruck fool.

* * *

I trudged back to the common room, my body aching and my limbs dragging. While neither Potter nor Yaxley had hit me, I was still sore from Potter steamrolling over my body on the ground and my vicious grip on the Slytherin while he had tried to buck me off. All I wanted was to sleep and recover for the rest of the afternoon, but – you guessed it – it looked like I had a few obstacles to jump before that.

Muttering a tired, _"will-o'-the-wisps"_ to the Fat Lady, I climbed into the portrait hole and emerged into the common room. I had barely set foot into the place before Dorcas was already marching up to me with Emmeline and Becca on her heels, and, to my surprise and disgust, Mary MacDonald was with them.

"We need to talk," Dorcas said, and I shrugged, waving them over to a corner table by the window. I plopped down in a seat, trying not to fall asleep as the girls gathered around me, MacDonald still annoyingly there.

"All right, let's hear it," I said, crossing my arms. Dorcas's eyes narrowed, and she shared a glance with the other girls, even MacDonald. I felt my teeth clench.

"Look, Piper, you know we love you," Emmeline began nervously.

"But something's off with you lately," Becca supplied. She was sitting straight in her seat, her heavily-lined eyes intense and serious, and I suddenly saw the resemblance to her uncle, Bartemius Crouch, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry. He had been in the papers all summer, ever since the Death Eaters had been gaining more approval and becoming bolder in their attacks, and I understood now why he was in charge – the Crouch look was an intimidating one.

I frowned. "There's nothing 'off' with me."

They exchanged another glance, and I scowled. MacDonald was still hovering like a pesky fly, and my irritation bubbled, especially when she had the audacity to _speak_ to me.

"Piper, dear," she said soothingly, as if I were a cranky baby who needed to be put down for a nap. "You've been very aggressive ever since this term started – well, more so than usual. Did anything happen over the summer to make you feel like you need to lash out — ?"

"Christ, MacDonald, what are you, a shrink?" She blinked, oblivious to the Muggle term, but I pressed on. "Why are you even here, anyway? No one in this group likes you."

"Ignore her, Mary," Dorcas said, when the older girl flushed in embarrassment. "Piper just doesn't know when to stop acting like a child."

 _"Excuse me?"_ I whirled on her, feeling like I'd been slapped. "Where do you get off on talking to me like that? I'm your _friend."_

"Someone has to say it," she snapped. "You've been downright _horrid_ ever since we got back from holiday, and it's making the rest of us miserable! What's gotten into you, Piper?"

I stood up abruptly, shoving my chair back so hard it crashed to the floor.

"I'm going to bed," I said. "I'm done being interrogated."

Dorcas stood to block me as I attempted to storm past, and despite her being several inches taller than me, I didn't budge.

"This conversation isn't over," she said, just loud enough so the half of the common room that hadn't looked up when I shoved my chair was now aware of our standoff, but I couldn't care less.

"Yes, it is," I ground out through my teeth. "Now, move."

"I don't think so," she growled, stepping closer, and I automatically took a step back, stumbling when my legs hit the table behind me. She towered over me now, and suddenly I couldn't breathe, my lungs locking and my throat clamping. My vision went unfocused and I struggled to at least swallow, my mouth bone-dry. I had to get out. I had to get out.

I shoved past Dorcas, knocking her off-balance, and pelted full speed up to the dormitory, slamming the door shut behind me. I was panting, my knees trembling like they were about to give out, and I slid to the floor, the coolness of the wooden floors embracing my flushed skin.

I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling a few tears slip out, but thankfully, nobody came for me. I was alone, and that was all I prayed for. I stayed with my back to the door and cried.

* * *

I wasn't speaking to Dorcas, or anyone, for that matter. It had been two days since my fight and their subsequent attempt at an intervention, and though we still sat together in lessons and at meals, I had barely said more than a handful of words to any of them.

I hadn't spoken to any of the Marauders, either. Potter had gone to pretending I didn't exist after our moment of truce on Monday, and though Black still sent me death glares every once in a while, he wasn't outright antagonizing me, which was practically a blessing. Pettigrew was oblivious, as usual, and even Lupin was ignoring me. I hadn't been sure what to make of Potter's words; I knew they had been about Lupin, but I hadn't believed him. Though now, with him giving me the cold shoulder, I was certain Potter had only been saying it to get under my skin.

I ate my dinner that night slowly, dreading the arrival of the eighth hour. The Muggle Arts Club (or the 'MAC,' as I had secretly dubbed it) hadn't met for two weeks, since Professor Flitwick had been out for dragonpox. He had assigned us lines to read in the meantime, announcing via owl that auditions would be held the week he got back, and that he expected everyone to participate, no exceptions. I had read the lines more out of boredom than anything, not planning on snagging a major part and hoping I would be cast as Tree #1 or something, but I still didn't want to go and be subjected to the Marauders and their female fiends.

"It's ten 'til eight," Emmeline said, nudging my elbow with hers and startling me out of my stupor. "You should get going."

I nodded, giving the quiet girl a soft smile. Emmeline had always been the sweetest out of all of us, and how could I be mad with a face like hers?

"I'll see you later," I said, only sparing a brief glance to the other girls. Becca was studiously ignoring me, opting to poke at her macaroni instead, while Dorcas was looking further down the table, her attention elsewhere. Stifling a sigh, I shouldered my bag and departed from the Hall, waving to the boys (who either didn't know or didn't care about my fight with the others) as I left.

I arrived to the empty Charms classroom where the club met exactly when the bell chimed eight, and I took my customary seat in the back with the Hulking Hufflepuff, Thaddeus Meyers. I had yet to hawk up the courage to say anything to him, but he gave me a slight nod as I sat down, a glint of respect in his dark eyes.

Ah, yes. The story of my brawl with Yaxley had taken to the Hogwarts rumor mill like wildfire, which had resulted in outright hostility from the Slytherins and grudging respect from the other Houses. A seventh-year Ravenclaw had even high-fived me for it! I was making my way up in the world.

Professor Flitwick bumbled into the classroom shortly after the bell stopped chiming, Lupin following behind. I guess Flitwick was brought in to be an impartial judge for the auditioning, considering he usually never showed to these things, as he took a seat in the front row, conjuring a few cushions with his wand so he could sit taller.

Lupin leaned against the desk at the front of the room, raising a hand for silence as he said, "Well, today's audition day, everyone. After I take roll we'll begin. Professor Flitwick will decide who gets what part at the end of the meeting, so let's get started."

He sat down beside the Charms professor and unrolled a scroll of parchment, beginning to rattle off names for attendance. I couldn't help but notice his sour tone as he read off my name, nor the way a muscle in his jaw twitched when I announced my presence, but he continued without even sparing me a glance, finishing up the roll and sealing it once more.

"Let us begin!" Professor Flitwick squeaked. "I'll pair you off wizard to witch, randomly selected by me, and divvy up parts as we go along. First up, Caradoc Dearborn and Diana Cresswell!"

Ooh, awkward. I guess Flitwick never got the memo that the two seventh-year Ravenclaws used to date each other, which made for a pretty uncomfortable situation considering the lines he had assigned us involved two characters declaring their undying love for each other.

The two Ravenclaws took to the front of the room gracefully, however, and I instantly envied at how attractive they both were. They were bound to get lead parts, for sure, especially since they both nailed their audition. There was a polite smattering of applause when they sat down, and the auditions continued.

Most everyone was mediocre to some degree, and the first years were dreadful, giggling and making faces during their readings. The demon spawn from Fortescue's was atrocious, mostly because he kept glancing back to me and making kissy lips, and I resisted the urge to throw my shoe at him.

Flitwick kept pairing people off, and the longer I sat there, the more I began to worry. Soon it had dwindled down to me, Lupin, Evans, and Black, all to my utmost horror. I didn't want to be paired with any of them, but the worst scenario had to happen, _of course._

"And our last two pairs!" Flitwick announced. "Sirius Black and Lily Evans, second to last, with Remus Lupin and Piper Everlark finishing us off!"

I physically fought the urge to groan. Was the universe against me this much? What higher being wanted me to suffer so badly?

Lupin didn't look any better off. He was literally on the edge of his seat, his knee bouncing in agitation, and I wondered if he was about to bolt from the room. If he did, I would be right on his heels; at least that was something I agreed with him on.

After a fifth year Hufflepuff and fourth year Ravenclaw were finished, Evans and Black took the floor. Now, I honestly wish I could explain what happened next, but I don't think any words can fathom the horrible awkwardness of their audition. Black was as arrogant and dramatic as ever, but Evans… I had never seen the poor witch so outside of her element before. I used to believe that Evans was great at everything, as pretentious as she was, but I think I had found the one thing that could put an end to her reign of perfect princess.

I can't even begin to describe how awful she was. I almost felt _bad_ for her. She was clearly flustered, but on top of that, she couldn't deliver a line to save her life. Merlin, maybe _she_ should be the one cast as Tree #1.

"Er, thank you, Miss Evans, Mr. Black," Professor Flitwick said after a halting applause. He cleared his throat, jotting down some notes and then crossing something out with a violent quill stroke. "Mr. Lupin, Miss Everlark, when you're ready, please."

Godric, here we go. I took a deep breath, standing from my seat and walking to the front to meet Lupin. Everyone's eyes were on us, but I tried not to be bothered by it, focusing on Flitwick instead, who gave us a kind smile.

I turned to Lupin, and he reluctantly faced me. His entire being radiated tension, and for some reason, Potter's words rang in my head. I shook them off, not wanting to be reminded when the object of his statement was right in front of me.

"Scene," Flitwick said, and I inhaled.

"I love you," I said. Had my voice meant to come out that shaky? "Forget what my father said, forget what my mother wants – I want you, and only you. I love you."

"What made you change your mind?" Lupin breathed. Damn, he was good at acting. I had to step up my game.

"Tonight, at the feast," I shook my head, biting my lip. "I saw my future clearly for the first time – like a veil had been lifted from my eyes. The loveless marriages, the meaningless parties, the dull, dreary landscape to an unhappy life… I couldn't do that to myself. I deserve better. And you…"

Lupin took a hesitant step forward, and I tried not to flinch when his hand cupped my cheek. His skin was unnaturally warm and callused, years of transformations etched into his flesh, and my breath hitched.

"I knew from the first moment I saw you I was meant to love you," he said softly. His green eyes bored into mine, and I was shocked at the intensity in them. Wow, he took this club seriously. "I had never seen someone so beautiful, so perfectly flawed in every way. It was agony, watching you from afar. I wanted – no, _needed_ – to be close to you."

He leaned closer, almost whispering into my ear, and I shivered at the touch of his breath. "Do you trust me?"

"No."

The word was out of my mouth before I could stop it. Lupin faltered, his brows creasing in confusion. I backed away from him a step, and he frowned.

"What are you doing?" he hissed, but I shook my head.

"No, I don't trust you," I said. I didn't know what was compelling me to say this to him, but something inside of me had recoiled at his touch, curling into itself and spitting venom at him.

"You dropped me like I was nothing," I continued, my throat stinging. "You turned on me as if you couldn't be bothered. You stood by for _years_ while _they_ tortured me." I thrust a finger at the group of seventh year Gryffindors, and they blinked in shock. "And now you come back, all of a sudden apologizing for what you did? Claiming to _miss me?"_

Lupin's dismayed gaze flicked briefly to Potter, who had the prudence to grimace and sink lower in his seat before the other boy turned his stare back to me.

"Piper — " He sounded pained, but I cut him off. I was tired of listening to him.

"I hate you," I spat. "I hate what you did to me, and I hate what you're _still_ doing to me." I blinked back a sudden onslaught of tears. "Just leave me alone, please."

My voice broke, and the room was left in stunned silence. I could practically hear dust motes hitting the floor. What did I do? What came over me just now?

Lupin was staring at me, his green eyes filled with fury and hurt. But it was all just acting, right?

I nearly jumped out of my skin when Professor Flitwick leapt to his feet, clapping ecstatically and shattering the deafening silence.

"Bravo, bravo!" he cheered. "I was worried when you went off-script, Miss Everlark, but that improvisation was wonderful! So captivating!"

No one else was clapping, but Flitwick didn't seem to notice. I swear I even saw him wipe a tear from his eye.

"That settles it!" he said. "I think we just found our last leading lady! Oh, you're going to make a _brilliant_ Titania!"

"What?" I said dumbly. He couldn't be serious. Was he serious? Because if so…

I was royally screwed.

* * *

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	9. Because a White Flag is Cliche

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **Although the chapter title is completely different, I have dubbed this in my head as "The One Where Piper Realizes Some Shit."**

 **Thank you for all the new favorites/follows, and thank you to my reviewers from last time: Randommmfanatic, heroherondaletotherescue, Epochs, Cae-Leigh Anne, ForeverCharmed00, LoveFiction2017, HappyTerrier, RunningGolden, Twilley Moon, feelthatfire, ImsebastianstanButter, GreyMoonHuntress, and Guest!**

* * *

Chapter Nine: Because a White Flag is Cliché

"Wait, so let me get this straight: you completely butchered your audition – not even on purpose – and Flitwick still gave you a leading role?"

I was sat next to Benjy in Transfiguration the day after my disaster with Lupin, and he looked equal parts amazed and bemused.

"Oh, stop gawking, Benj," I sighed, attempting to run a hand through my hair and only succeeding on getting it ensnared in my curls. "You're acting like I just saved a child from being trampled by a herd of hippogriffs; it's not that impressive."

"Nah, I'm sure the whole thing was horrendous," he said, and I frowned at him, managing to disentangle my fingers at last. "I'm just in awe that you've managed to bullshit your way through yet another thing."

"Thanks, Benjy," I said, rolling my eyes and going back to my parchment, where I was supposed to be copying down notes Professor McGonagall had bewitched onto the chalkboard. "Your confidence is overwhelming. Really gives me that warm and fuzzy feeling inside."

He chuckled under his breath, and I had just finished the first bullet point when he turned to me curiously.

"So, what's been going on with you and the others lately?" he asked, and I refrained from rolling my eyes again. I knew the question was bound to pop up sooner or later – after all, I wasn't exactly hiding my displeasure with the girls, and the tension between us these last few days was nearly palpable – but that still didn't mean I wanted to answer it.

"I talked to Dorcas about it — " he continued, and I whipped my head around so fast my neck nearly cricked.

"Yeah?" I said, and my voice dripped with sarcasm. "And what did Dorcas 'I'm-always-right' Meadowes have to say?"

Benjy gave me a dry look, as if I had just proved Dorcas's point – whatever that point was. "That you're being a stubborn prat, and you've been lashing out at everyone – well, more so than usual, at least."

I glowered down at my parchment, clutching my quill tightly. I wanted to argue, deny it all, but the simple fact was that I couldn't. I knew I was being stubborn, and I knew I was being – as Potter had so eloquently put it last week – a bitch, but why wasn't I allowed to be? It seemed that this year had turned into the "Piper Everlark Witch Hunt" (no pun intended), so couldn't I express my frustration and anger about that? Why was everyone on _my_ case, anyway?

Benjy sighed when I refused to answer, still glaring at my notes. "Look, Pipes, I know you've had a rough couple of years, and with everything that's going on now, it probably isn't helping, but maybe you should try, I dunno, opening up more?"

He cringed when I looked to him, my expression flat, but he kept going. "You keep everything bottled inside too much, and it's not healthy. Especially after everything that happened with your dad — "

"Professor, may I go to the restroom, please?" I asked loudly, speaking over Benjy, and the bespectacled witch glanced up from grading the papers in front of her, nodding silently in affirmation.

Benjy looked affronted as I stood up and stalked from the room, and I felt bad, really, but he had struck a nerve, and that was one of the many conversations I did _not_ want to have.

I trudged into the girls' lavatory down the corridor, approaching a sink and turning on the faucet. I began to wash my hands slowly, enjoying the cool feel of the water, all the while staring into the mirror.

I looked the same as I ever did: long, curly black hair, fair skin, and a dash of freckles across my cheeks that you wouldn't be able to tell was there considering how much makeup I used to cover them. I had always hated my freckles, especially when my face used to be covered in acne and they had just blended in with all my pimples, making my skin look worse than it actually did. My eyes were still the same shade of robin's egg blue, but they looked more tired than normal, more worn. Jeez, was sixth year aging me that fast already?

I stayed over the sink, even after I had dried my hands and the water had swirled down the drain. I hated proving Benjy right, skulking away in the bathroom after he had tried to talk to me, but I really wasn't in the mood to have another of my friends on my arse, especially after bringing up my dad like that.

I flashed back to my conversation with Evans several weeks ago, when she had told me about all the things I had screamed at her two years ago to make her hate me so much, remembering why I had even lost my head at her in the first place.

I had always known that Archie and I being magical and going off to a wizarding school had put strain on our parents and their already rocky relationship, but they had tried to keep things normal as much as possible despite it all. However, it didn't work out that well.

As Archie and I had gotten more involved in the wizarding world, so did our parents by default. While Mum embraced it as readily as she could, Dad had tried his best to remain wholly separated from it. I don't think he ever really believed in all the magic stuff, but the older Archie and I got, the harder it had been for him to turn a blind eye. I think the final straw for him was when we had taken him to Diagon Alley the summer before my fourth year. I guess Mum thought that if he saw our world, he would get more accustomed to it, but it had the opposite effect. He drew away from us (well, more than he already had) and refused to even acknowledge that part of our lives.

Archie was devastated, of course; he and Dad had always been close, and the reservation and cold-shoulder from Dad had hit him hard. Me? I couldn't care less. Dad and I always had our issues ever since I was a kid and learned early about his drinking, and this just gave me another excuse not to deal with him. Still, it's kind of a blow to the gut when you receive a letter from your own father asking you not to contact him anymore while you were away at school.

I had been angry more than anything. It stung, yeah – rejection was always a bitch – but I had also been furious. How _dare_ he tell his own daughter not to write him anymore? How dare he tell his _son_ not to write him anymore? It was on Archie's behalf that I had flown into a rage – especially after he had confronted me and screamed about how it had all been my fault – and pity on Evans for being the first one to find me and receiving the brunt of my wrath.

That had been two years ago, and I was certain Archie had never forgiven me for it, even if I really didn't have anything to do with it. He was convinced that I had treated Dad so poorly that I had pushed him away from us, and maybe I had, but ultimately it was on Dad for not wanting to accept who we really were.

I checked my watch, seeing that I only had five minutes left of class, and I decided to go back now that I was calmed down some. I walked in just as everyone was packing up, and Benjy glanced up when I slid back into my seat.

"I copied the rest of the notes for you if you wanna have a look and jot them down," he said, sliding his parchment over to me, and I flashed him a brief smile of gratitude that he returned.

"Thanks, Benj," I said. "I'll get them back to you later tonight."

He nodded, giving me another grin before getting up and departing with the rest once the bell rang.

I sat in my seat, scribbling down the notes quickly before McGonagall's next class arrived. She didn't say anything to me when I stayed behind, though I could hear the entering students speculating why the sixth-year was still here.

Finishing the rest of my notes, I shoved the two pieces of parchment into my bag and stood up, only to crash into someone's chest as I attempted to leave the classroom.

"Sorry," I said gruffly, at the same time Lupin said, "I'm sorry, excuse me."

I nearly groaned aloud when I realized it was him I had bumped into. Why was it always bloody _him?_ His expression soured when he saw me, though I noticed his cheeks were faintly pink. He had to still be embarrassed over the stinging words I had hurled at him yesterday during the audition.

I brushed past him without another word, but he turned and grabbed my elbow. "Wait!"

"What do you _want,_ Lupin?" I cried in exasperation, pivoting on my heel to face him with a scowl. "Do you think it's kinky every time I yell at you? Is that why you're constantly bugging me?"

"Will you just shut up, for once?" he growled, and the tone of his voice made me pause.

I didn't speak, merely blinking at him in slight shock. Even he seemed surprised at the intensity of his voice, though he went on without acknowledging it.

"This has to stop," he said, lowering his voice when some students entered the classroom behind us. I raised a questioning brow. "We can't keep being at each other's throats, not if we're supposed to be working together on the play."

"Then quit trying to talk to me and we won't have any problems," I said flatly, and he looked pained.

"I can't do that," he said quietly.

"You have to," I said, wondering why my chest was so tight all of a sudden. "For both our sakes, just stop trying to make amends between us. There's been too much said and done for us to go back to the way things were."

It saddened me to say that, I realized, but I snapped myself out of that quickly. There would be no pity party for me today.

"Please," he said, and he sounded so genuine that something in my gut stirred uncomfortably. "Just let me say something once. Meet me at the place I showed you in the courtyard after dinner. We can talk there."

I sized him up, wondering if he was being serious or if I was being set up for a prank. I wasn't going to put it past him, but I found myself nodding nonetheless.

"Fine," I said. "But don't expect any white flags."

And with that, I turned on my heel and flounced away.

* * *

I guess I should come clean.

I haven't been entirely honest, and for that, I figure I should say sorry. But when I talk about how sick I am of everyone bringing up the past, I mean I am _really_ sick of it. I was a person who tried to avoid dwelling on things too much; firstly, it was just too much to worry about on top of everything else I had to deal with, and secondly, it was terrible for your complexion. Trust me, my nickname used to be _Pimply._ I _know_ these things. But just because I tried not to dwell on the past didn't mean I couldn't hold grudges for things that happened in the way-back-when ( _ahem,_ Lupin and the Marauders, and the other Gryffindor girls, and Bertram Aubrey, and – well, you get the idea). My abstinence from dwelling has kept me from telling the whole story of how, exactly, I went from being the Marauders' best mate to their Public Enemy Number Three. Therefore, I'm resigning myself to sharing it now.

My first week at Hogwarts had been…rough. I mean, how can wizards just pluck random Muggleborns and plop them into a school of magic where they don't know _anybody,_ let alone how to do _magic,_ and expect them to be all right? That kind of thing is bloody traumatizing for an eleven-year-old, if you ask me.

Anyway, here I was: eleven, friendless, uncertain, frightened, and a Muggleborn. I had heard kids talking on the Express our first day about the four Houses, and I'd been terrified that I was going to end up a Hufflepuff, the "House of duffers." And yet, the Sorting Hat had placed me into Gryffindor, and for the first night I had been ecstatic, albeit a little lonely. My dormmates, Dorcas Meadowes, Rebecca Crouch, and Emmeline Vance – _odd names_ – were obviously all from wizarding families, and they had seemed to know each other already, and thus kept to themselves.

The following days had been embarrassing and mortifying. The kids wearing the silver-and-green ties – who I had learned were the Slytherins – hissed and laughed at me in the halls, some of the older ones even mocking me, calling me 'the Mudblood.' I clearly had no idea what the word meant at the time, but I cottoned on quickly enough to realize that it was a derogatory term, one that was aimed at Muggleborns.

Lessons hadn't been too bad; most everyone was at the same level as me – meaning they knew nothing, as well – and I threw myself headfirst into the work they gave us, wanting nothing more than to prove myself to my Housemates, and those bloody Slytherins. I also thought that becoming one of the top students would help me make friends, so it was with relish I began learning ahead in all my classes. I even dyed my bangs red one night on a whim, to symbolize Gryffindor, and received a few compliments, though no one wanted anything to do with a first-year like me.

Then came the Whizbang incident. I had heard rumors, of course, from the other first-years about the so-called 'Marauders,' who were a year ahead of us and in Gryffindor House too. They were supposedly the coolest second-years in the school, poised to become pranking legends by the time they graduated. Everyone in the second- and first-years worshipped them, and even some of the older students were begrudgingly amused by their antics, especially after their first prank of the year that year.

I had been walking through the third-floor corridor, heading to lunch with the rest of the students, when suddenly fireworks had begun to crack and sparkle above us, showering sparks on our heads. I saw the Marauders cackling and whooping as they set off the Whizbangs, before my eye caught on a dud that didn't explode in the air like it should have, instead plummeting back down to where one of the four boys was standing, oblivious to the impending explosive.

Before I could even process what I was doing, I had hurled myself at the boy, knocking him out of the way just as the Whizbang detonated where he had been standing. My ears had been ringing and my mouth tasted of ash after it was done, but I stood up quickly, suddenly embarrassed. Why had I even done that? I didn't even know him!

He got to his feet, and I could feel his stare boring into my face, making me more and more uncomfortable with each passing second. It took me a moment to remember his name, but suddenly it hit me: Remus Lupin. That was it.

"Er…thanks," he said, sounding slightly awed.

I sifted through a million responses in my mind, ranging from nice to snarky, before finally settling on the oh-so-savvy, "You're an idiot."

I turned and began striding for the Great Hall, my face burning, but his voice held me back. "Hey, wait!"

I faced him once more, hoping he hadn't noticed the blush on my cheeks. To my utter mortification, it didn't help that he was cute too: tall, sandy hair, green eyes, and a sweet smile, even if it did look sheepish within that moment. I seemed to have skipped the part of life where it was a known fact that boys had cooties, because I could not get over that smile.

He scratched the back of his neck, grinning slightly. "What's your name, firsty?"

"I'm Piper Everlark," I said, hoping I didn't sound too nervous. "And you're welcome, by the way."

I nodded to the mark on the floor where the Whizbang had blown, before dashing off and leaving him alone in the corridor, my face hotter than it had ever felt.

If I had known back then that what I had done was something the Marauders felt to commemorate me for, I probably wouldn't have bothered. Then I wouldn't have become friends with them, then I wouldn't have been forced to choose…

The Whizbang incident seemed to have earned the Marauders' trust in me, for whatever reason, because from then on, I had found myself constantly surrounded by them. We ate meals together, they helped me study in the library (when they weren't getting kicked out), and generally just hanging around me, as if we had been friends forever. They began teaching me their ways of pranking, and sometimes, when we were bored, Lupin and I would take walks around the lake, just to talk.

He had been witty and charming, and I was fascinated. Not only had he been cute, but he had been smart and kind and thoughtful. He clung on to every word you said as if it was the most interesting thing he'd ever heard, and his attention would never waver. We talked about anything and everything: our families, our home lives, our hopes for the future, and one day, he even opened up to me about his lycanthropy (after I had already pieced it together like the others, but still) – all the things best friends talked about. Because I came to realize towards the end of my first year that Remus Lupin _was_ my best friend, and – go ahead, sue me – the boy I had the biggest crush on.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I had fancied Remus Lupin. It's sad to say, really, but it was true. Good riddance the second incident had happened, then, or else I might've actually gone out with the sap.

I wasn't blind. I knew the Marauders had a bit of a bullying streak going on, particularly when it came to Severus Snape and Bertram Aubrey, or anyone else they felt deserved it. Potter had always been the instigator, of course, with Black egging him on and Pettigrew encouraging him with laughter. I'd sensed that Lupin wasn't that into it, but he'd never said a word against it, opting to stand back and watch and taking me with him. I didn't approve of it, either, but I was like Lupin; only watching, afraid to speak up for fear of losing the first friends I had made since coming to Hogwarts. Until the day everything changed.

It had happened in the Entrance Hall. I had been coming down the marble staircase with Lupin, heading to dinner, when we saw Potter and Black confronting three girls, and I'd realized with a start that they were my dormmates, Dorcas, Becca, and Emmeline.

"Just stay out of things that aren't your business!" Potter was shouting at them. "If I want to have a go at Snivellus then I'll have one!"

"He hasn't done anything to you!" Emmeline said shrilly, and I was surprised. Emmeline had always been soft-spoken, and I honestly hadn't pegged her as a confrontational type. "He was just walking to dinner!"

They were starting to draw a crowd.

"Yeah, and leaving slimy grease trails everywhere he stepped foot," Black sneered, and some of the surrounding students snickered. I couldn't see a sign of Snape anywhere, and I figured he had slipped back into the crowd. _Coward._

Dorcas had stepped forward then, balling her fists.

"You both think you're so special," she snapped. "You and your friends are nothing but bullies! Just leave everyone in this school alone!"

"Or what?" Potter said nastily. "You'll call on your Amazon warriors to beat us up?"

Dorcas faltered at Potter's insinuation, no doubt because of her height and sturdy build, and Potter grinned gleefully when Pettigrew roared with laughter.

"Why don't you run along now, Amazon?" Black jeered. "Take Freak and Pupils with you; Pupils looks like she's about to start crying."

"How can you tell?" Pettigrew piped up from Black's other shoulder. "Her eyes are so small and squinty!"

Emmeline's lower lip wobbled, and suddenly, I felt terrible. Though they weren't my friends, they weren't _horrible,_ either. The only reason why I let Snape and Aubrey slide was because the Marauders had told me how awful they were, but it suddenly dawned on me: _were_ they? Or had the Marauders been filling my head with lies, trying to get me to see things their way so I wouldn't reprimand them for bullying others? I suddenly felt queasy.

"Oh, but don't let Freak eat too much!" Black called after the girls as they began shouldering their way through the crowd. "We'll need to start calling her 'Cow' otherwise!"

I gaped, whirling on Lupin.

"How can you just sit there?" I demanded, and he winced at my tone. "They're saying such awful things! Can't you stop them?"

"Er…" He looked uncomfortable. "I'm sure they don't mean it…"

I blinked, shocked. It was as if someone had opened these heavy, dreadful drapes inside my mind, allowing me to see clearly for the first time.

"You're a coward," I said bluntly, and his eyes widened. "A true Gryffindor would stand up to their friends if they were being spiteful, but you…"

"Piper — " he started, but I pulled away when he reached for me, tears pooling in my eyes. How could I have been so blind to this? My stupid crush had fogged my brain, making me believe that what they were doing was okay, and it _wasn't._

"You're a coward, Remus Lupin," I said. "And I'm not friends with cowards."

I left him standing at the top of the stairs, pelting down the steps until I was in front of Black, Potter, and Pettigrew, who were chortling to themselves as if they hadn't just mocked those girls in front of the whole school.

"I'm done," I snapped, marching up to them.

They stopped laughing, though they didn't seem to be fazed by the anger in my eyes.

"Hey, Pipes," Potter said, grinning. "Did you see their faces? What a bunch of losers — "

"That Evans girl is right about one thing, Potter," I said, and he frowned at my sudden use of his last name. "You're nothing but an arrogant, bullying toerag."

I whirled on Black. "And _you._ You always tout about how great it is not being in Slytherin, but for a Gryffindor, you sure act like a spineless snake."

Their mouths were hanging open in shock, but I wasn't done.

"You can do better than these berks, Pettigrew," I said coldly. "Don't listen to them."

Potter was spluttering, his face red.

"What's gotten into you?" he demanded. "I thought we were _friends_ — "

"Not anymore," I said. "We're through. I'm done being associated with the school's biggest prats."

Potter narrowed his eyes behind his glasses.

"Fine," he said petulantly. "Be that way."

He nudged a mutinous Black and silent Pettigrew after him, but not before turning around and shouting, "See you around, Pimply!"

My face flushed, but I was too angry to be embarrassed. I stared after them, only taking my eyes off them and flinching at the touch of someone's hand on my shoulder.

"Piper," Lupin said. "Hey, come on; they were just being idiots. I'm sure they didn't mean it — "

I shrugged his hand off my shoulder, scowling. "Stop making excuses for them, Remus! They're never going to change; don't pretend like you don't know that."

He seemed to deflate in on himself, sighing. "Piper, please — "

"Enjoy your life, Lupin," I said, fighting to hold back the sudden tears that came on. "I'm done being a part of it. I…I thought you were different, but…" I sniffed. "Goodbye."

I hurried into the Hall after that, pretending like I hadn't seen his heartbroken expression. I found my dormmates sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table, looking troubled, and Emmeline was wiping her eyes on a napkin. They looked up when I threw myself into the seat next to Dorcas, their expressions wary, but I gave them a watery smile.

"So," I said, picking up a dinner roll and taking a large bite. "I'm on the market for some new friends. You lot interested?"

Slowly, we shared a large grin, and though I had gained three new friends that day, it still hadn't stopped me from sobbing into my pillow later that night when they were all asleep.

* * *

So, there you have it. The full tale of how my war with the Marauders started. We had been enemies ever since, yet for some reason, Lupin couldn't leave me the bloody hell alone, as evidenced by wanting to talk to me – _again_ – tonight.

I dropped by the Gryffindor common room before dinner, dragging myself through the portrait hole with a sigh. Spotting my friends sitting near the fireplace, I trudged over to them, throwing my bag on the floor and plopping myself onto the sofa JJ and Dom were occupying, practically splaying atop them like a cat.

"Piper the Viper," Dom said, scratching the top of my head before I batted his hand away. "What have you been up to today, my dear?"

"Thinking of ways I can make Lupin's death look like an accident," I said, and I ignored Dorcas's light scoff.

"What'd he do now?" JJ asked, shifting beneath me and moving my elbow out of his hip with a grimace.

"Existing. Being a pain in my arse. Breathing. Being an even bigger pain in my arse."

Another scoff from Dorcas.

Doing my best to not rise to the bait, I instead rolled off the boys and stood, grabbing my bag again. "Well, I'm off to dinner. Anyone coming?"

JJ and Dom followed me off the couch, and after exchanging a look, Alfie and Benjy got to their feet too. I cocked a brow at Emmeline, who was looking back and forth between Dorcas and I. "Coming, Em?"

"Er, sorry, Pipes, I can't," she said. "I, er…have to do homework."

"Okay." I shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Dorcas scoffed _again,_ and this time I couldn't stop myself from turning on her.

"Need to see Madam Pomfrey for that cough, Dor?" I asked sweetly, and she glared at me.

"Nope, I feel fine," she said in the same tone of voice. "Sorry we can't eat with you tonight; Mary invited me and the girls to sit with her friends and the Marauders."

"How nice," I said flatly. "Tell MacDonald I send my regards, and let her know that I have an application for her to fill out if she wants to keep up her shrink work."

Dorcas scowled, and I wiggled my fingers before making for the portrait hole. _"Ciao."_

I wasn't gonna lie, I was pissed. How could they just up and leave me like that? And the _Marauders? Really?_ This was only further proof that everyone was out to get me this year. Seriously, what was _happening?_

I didn't speak all through dinner, instead spending my time spearing green beans with my fork and glaring in the direction of Dorcas and the others. They were all laughing as if they were old friends, and my gaze slid to Lupin, only to find him already staring at me.

He looked away hastily, throwing in some undoubtedly stupid joke that made the rest of them laugh, and I gripped my fork so tightly I thought the poor utensil would snap.

"Oi, ease up," Alfie said, prying the fork from my death grip. "Just because the fork doesn't have feelings doesn't mean you can abuse it."

I shot him a withering look, and he smiled nervously. "Uh, sorry? I was kidding; please, abuse it as much as you want. I'll turn a blind eye."

"Am I a bitch?" I blurted out, and they all froze, suddenly looking panicked.

I beseeched each one of them with pleading eyes, which they readily avoided, before Alfie spoke up again.

"Er, well, I wouldn't go that far…" he hedged.

"'Bitchy' isn't a word I would use to describe you," JJ said. "I mean, I'd use petty, stubborn, rude, mean, but, uh… you're also really nice, and really pretty?" he finished lamely when I looked to him with high brows.

"Yeah, pretty," Dom said hurriedly before he began to wolf down his mashed potatoes at an alarming rate. I turned to Benjy last with hopeful eyes.

"This is one of those trick questions, isn't it?" he said suspiciously. "Like when a girl asks if her new robes make her look fat? What are you even supposed to say in those types of situations?"

I groaned, smacking my head on the table.

"I get it, I get it," I said. "I'm a bitch. Thanks."

"Not all the time," Benjy said quickly, backtracking. "It's just, you can – you know – be a little intense sometimes."

I groaned again.

"You just need to brush up on your people skills more," JJ said. "Like, uh, smile more, and don't make faces at them when they say something dumb — "

"Oh, never mind," I said, bringing my head up from the table. "Forget I asked."

I saw a movement from my peripheral and locked eyes with Lupin again. He tapped his watch, mouthing, _Outside. Five minutes._ I rolled my eyes.

After making up some lame excuse about homework, I got up from the table and meandered outside, wrapping my arms around myself. November would be here in a few weeks, but already the temperature was cooler, and I cursed myself for not thinking to bring my scarf.

"Cold?" Lupin asked from behind me, and I spun around, nearly jumping out of my skin. He was illuminated by the golden light streaming through the doors of the castle, giving him a bronzy glow, and something in my chest clenched at the sight.

"Yeah," I mumbled, figuring there would be no use in hiding it.

He pulled out his Gryffindor red-and-gold scarf from a pocket of his robes and held it out to me, displaying it like a banner.

"You said no white flags, right?" he said with a cheeky grin, and I nearly choked on air. Lupin was making a _joke_ to me?

"Yeah," I said again, reaching for the scarf and taking it, wrapping it around my neck. It was warm and soft and smelled like the woods and something almost akin to cinnamon, but more…manly, I guess.

He gestured me to follow him, and I did, and soon we had reached the secret alcove. I looked out of the archway next to it, seeing that the sky was clear, and here, nestled in the Scottish mountains, the stars were many and beautiful, scattered across the sky like diamonds displayed against blue velvet. I listened to the distant rushing of the falls that fed into the Black Lake, waiting for him to speak. It took a few minutes, but finally he did.

"I know you don't want to hear any apologies, but at least listen to what I have to say before you go storming off," he began. I remained expressionless, choosing to stare out at the distant peaks swathed in shadow, and he continued.

"Yesterday, at the auditions. Everything you said was right."

Wait, what?

I looked to him in confusion, but now he was the one refusing to meet my gaze, instead tracing patterns on the stone ledge before us with his finger.

"I could've gone after you that day," he said, and I was surprised to hear him bring up The Day. "I should have, but I didn't. James and Sirius and Peter…they were my best mates. The first friends I had ever had. I overlooked their faults because I didn't want to lose that bond. After all, who would have ever wanted to be friends with a werewolf?"

I started. That was the first time I had ever heard him call himself a werewolf out loud. Normally he just stuck with "his furry little problem."

He shook his head. "They were prats back then, I won't deny that, and I truly am sorry for what they did to your friends. But they've changed now, and those days are little more than memories we look back on and groan about."

He sucked in a sharp breath. "The only regrets I have are not learning to stand up to them sooner, and because of that, losing you as a friend in the process."

I blinked, and to my utter horror, my eyelashes were wet. Thank God it was dark, or else I would've looked a bloody fool right then.

He finally looked to me, and I hastily wiped my eyes on his scarf, mascara be damned. My pride was more important within that moment.

"I'm so sorry, Piper," he said. "I never meant for any of this to happen. And James – bleeding prat that he is – was right. I do miss you. But I understand if you want me to leave you alone from here on out. I won't even speak to you, if you want. Just know that I really am sorry."

"Why?" I said, and I was horrified to hear my voice thick with tears. "Why are you saying all this now?"

He looked so sad within that moment that I had to resist the urge to reach out and touch him.

"Honestly? Because it might be the last chance I get to say this to you."

He stared out to the dark horizon, a muscle twitching in his jaw, and I frowned, puzzled.

"Because you're graduating, right?" I said, and he shook his head.

"That's a part of it, yes," he said, and suddenly it hit me.

"You're joining the war."

Not a question, but a statement. I could see enough in his eyes to fill in the blank spaces I had. I had always been able to read his eyes.

He nodded tightly.

"As soon as we're done with school," he said. "All of us are going: Sirius, James, Peter, Lily, Alice, some others. We decided it last year."

I was in shock. For some reason, the notion of all them going off to fight was terrifying, and my lungs felt like they were cracking under the pressure of me not breathing properly.

"That's…very noble," I finally said, and a soft grin ghosted across his face.

"Yeah," he said, and it was silent between us for a few moments.

I studied his face in the starlight, noting all the faint scars, some old, and some new. He looked as if he had already seen war, but instead of two sides fighting, it was a battle against himself. It was then that I realized that I missed him.

I _missed_ bloody Remus Lupin.

"We can't change the past," I said suddenly, and he jumped slightly, as if forgetting that I was there. He looked to me questioningly, but I rambled on before I lost my nerve, as I had already lost my sanity, it seemed. "I-I'm not saying we should jump to being _friends,_ but, I mean, it wouldn't be so bad if we…stopped being _enemies._ We could be, like, acquaintances, maybe — "

I cut off when I saw him grinning at me, looking far too amused for this situation. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, chuckling. "Acquaintances it is, then."

He held out his hand, as if expecting me to shake it, and I eyed him warily.

"Just don't make me regret this, Lupin," I muttered, and he laughed as we shook hands, a small smile finding its way onto my own face, as well.

"Yeah," I said. "Acquaintances it is."

* * *

 **Please review! I love to hear all your thoughts!**

 **xx**


	10. Untouchable

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **Welcome back! I can't believe it's been almost a year already since I've started this story - time flies when you're a broke college student who writes fan fiction and ignores adulthood for as long as possible.**

 **Thank you for all the new favorites/follows, and thank you to my reviewers from last time: heroherondaletotherescue, lilrilakkuma, ForeverCharmed00, Minzibaloo11, crying saucers, LoveFiction2017, AshleyMarieD, RunningGolden, brundy1331, and Sparky She-Demon!**

 *****Important A/N*****

 **As I said earlier on, this story changed to an M rating for several reasons, and this chapter is one of those reasons. While nothing is explicitly stated outright, context gathered from this chapter does include references to sexual assault/rape. If you are not comfortable reading it then that is your own prerogative, and I understand completely. I'll have another A/N at the end of the chapter that talks more about this if you are interested in reading that.**

* * *

Chapter Ten: Untouchable

The next week was strange, and that was saying a lot, even for me.

After Lupin and I's rocky agreement to become acquaintances and cut out the drama (which I found extremely ironic, considering we were both in the drama club now), things had been almost… _peaceful._

The morning after Lupin's apology I woke up early, strangely wired for some reason. I had decided in my bed the night before as I was tossing and turning that I would make up with Dorcas and the others, considering Lupin and I were no longer enemies and – dare I say it – I was getting tired of being mad all the time. So I reached the conclusion that I would have to suck up my petty anger and just be the bigger person for once.

I worked on a Charms essay while I waited for them to wake up, which, I promise you, is something that I have never done. Half the time I hardly bothered with homework, and the other half was usually spent frantically copying my friends' essays five minutes before lessons started. It wasn't that I was _lazy_ – I just had better things to do. And as long as I could scrape an E or an A in most lessons, I was golden.

Emmeline woke up first, as usual, and when she saw me cross-legged on my bed, balancing my parchment on one knee and my inkpot on the other, I understood her bafflement all too well.

"Er, hey, Pipes," she said, sitting up and squinting. "What are you doing awake so early?"

"Thought I'd get a head start on the day," I replied, jotting down a sentence for my essay. "Sleep well?"

"Um, yeah," she said, before mumbling something that sounded like, "Am I still sleeping…?"

I didn't answer her, continuing with my essay as she got up and started going about her morning. Over the course of the next fifteen minutes, Becca and Dorcas began to stir, as well, each one meeting my hardworking presence in much the same fashion as Em had.

I finished my essay with a flourish of my quill that I'm sure Flitwick would love (after his reaction to my audition, I think it was safe to say that the guy adored me) before setting it aside and clearing my throat, capturing the attention of the other girls.

"As you all know, I've been a royal pain in the arse for the last week," I said, meeting each of their eyes. Emmeline looked wary at my proclamation, while Dorcas and Becca wore twin expressions of suspicion and exasperation. "My behavior was out of line, and I'm sorry." They all exchanged a glance as if I had announced my elopement with the giant squid while I waited patiently for their response.

"Why are you doing this?" Dorcas asked with narrowed eyes. "You never apologize."

"I've decided to turn over a new leaf," I said, raising my chin. "Last night put some things in perspective for me, and a new era is beginning at Hogwarts."

"What are you raving on about?" Becca said, and I frowned at her.

"Lupin and I have reached a truce," I said. "A ceasefire, if you will. We have agreed to become acquaintances for the greater good, and to stop being enemies."

I paused, waiting for them to say something, but when they didn't I pouted. "What? This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

I looked to Dorcas, raising my brows, and she seemed to shake herself out of a stupor.

"Sorry," she said. "I was just trying to process what you had said. Repeat it again?"

"The war is over," I said slowly. "Lupin apologized, and I suggested we become acquaintances. The metaphorical hatchet is buried."

"So, you and Lupin called a truce," Becca said. "But what about the rest of the Marauders? They still hate you, don't they?"

I scowled at her, but she had a point. Lupin and I were on even terms, but would the rest of the Marauders be? I'm sure Black would still hate my guts no matter what, and Pettigrew would go along with him just because, but Potter? I thought back to earlier this week, when he had waited for me outside McG's office to see if I was all right. He had apologized to me too, and he had actually been civil. Did that mean he didn't hate me anymore? Because if he didn't, that would mean I had half the Marauders' forgiveness, and with Potter being the de facto leader of their little bunch, that could mean all of them might trust me again.

The thought made my heart twist, but before I could determine whether it was a good or a bad twist, Emmeline said, "Well, there's only one way to find out, right?"

We all looked to her questioningly, and she shrugged slightly. "We could eat with them this morning. I have to ask Potter a few questions about the practice schedule anyway."

I balked at the thought of sitting with the Marauders at breakfast, but Dorcas was nodding.

"You're right, Em. Besides, we've sat with them before, and Mary and the others will be there. It'll be like neutral territory."

 _Neutral territory?_ I thought incredulously. _Maybe for the rest of you, but that's no man's land for me._

"C'mon, then," Becca said. "Let's get ready; I'm starving."

Twenty minutes later we began walking towards the Great Hall, the girls talking animatedly about the upcoming Hogsmeade trip while I dragged my feet behind them, anxiety making my gut cramp.

Despite having made amends with Lupin (somewhat – I knew there was way too much baggage between us to sort it out magically overnight, and that we would likely have to deal with that – later rather than sooner, I hoped), this whole thing about merging our two groups seemed like jumping the gun. I mean, when I had suggested to Lupin we become acquaintances, I meant _gradually._ Like, a glacier moving gradually. Not "here, let's throw a bomb at the glacier and blow it up like it's no big deal and everything is normal" gradually.

My unease grew as we got closer to the Hall, especially when I glanced to Dorcas and Becca and realized that they had never really accepted my apology earlier. Em was easy to read, and I knew she hadn't really been mad at me to begin with, so I wasn't bothered by her reaction, but the others… Had I really done something so terrible to them? I get it, I'd been downright foul to them, but did that warrant them not forgiving me?

Gross. All this thinking was giving me a headache, and lessons hadn't even started yet.

We entered the Hall, and I trailed behind Dorcas and the others as they headed for the center of the table, where the Marauders and the seventh-year Gryffindor girls sat at every meal. My eyes zeroed in on Lupin, who was eating his porridge with a slight grin on his face as Pettigrew talked to him, and my apprehension hitched as if someone had grabbed it and yanked it violently.

Why was I so bloody nervous? I'd held my ground against the seventh-years practically since coming to this school, and I'd never been like this before. Was I ill or something?

 _Don't pretend to be clueless,_ a snide little voice in my head said. _Just admit that you're afraid of change._

I beat the voice away with a giant proverbial stick, even though my gut knew it was right. I'd been at war with the Marauders for so long that it had become something of a constant in my life, a sense of normalcy amidst all the chaos happening around me. How was I supposed to chuck five years out the window without a second thought? How could I suddenly befriend these people, the very same ones who had tormented me for so long? What Lupin told me, about all them joining the war when they left Hogwarts, I understood that and I respected it, but would that and our truce be enough for me to forgive everything that happened in the past?

By this point, I had made myself thoroughly nauseous by the time we had reached the Marauders, and I half-hid behind Dorcas's much taller frame as Emmeline greeted them all like old friends.

"Hey, guys," she said. "Mind if we join you?"

Potter waved his hand for us to sit down, his mouth too full of toast to say anything properly, and the girls took their seats: Emmeline next to Potter and Black, Becca across from Pettigrew and Fortescue, and Dorcas between MacDonald and Evans, which I assure you, was an unnerving sight.

I hesitated, still standing there like a complete idiot while I tried to figure out where to sit. Unfortunately, my moment cost me, for just then the table fell silent, everyone finally seeming to notice that I was there.

 _Say something, Everlark! New leaf, remember?_

"Hi," I blurted, struggling to keep my face neutral and my voice even, but I suddenly felt like I was standing at the staff table stark naked while the rest of the Hall laughed at me. _Oh my God, this is so embarrassing._

"Does anyone mind if Piper joins us this morning?" Emmeline asked, and I wondered when she had gained so much respect amongst the seventh-years.

Evans and McKinnon each looked as if they had smelled something foul, and I swear Black looked ready to pounce and rip my throat out as everyone else exchanged a glance. The only ones who seemed unbothered by my presence were the girls, of course, Lupin, and, surprisingly, Potter.

Finally managing to swallow the enormous bite of food in his mouth, Potter coughed slightly before saying, "Yeah, she's welcome."

Welcome? _Welcome?_ This was the first time in years Potter had allowed me to be within a five-feet radius of him without insulting or hexing me, and I was feeling sicker by the minute. He was staring at me expectantly, his brows raised, and I forced a smile that had to look deranged as I said, "Er, thanks."

"Here," Lupin said, scooting over on his bench and patting a very small space in between him and Pettigrew. "You can sit here."

Trying not to feel like I was about to throw up, I slid onto the bench next to Lupin, having to fight to get my thighs to fit into the limited space; Lupin was lean enough, but Pettigrew had gained some weight since the holiday, and it was all I could do to keep him from squishing me against Lupin entirely.

I had to lock my knees together and shove my hands into my lap to avoid touching Lupin, nearly jumping out of my skin when his thigh brushed against mine as he moved to get some eggs. God, this was terrible. Why did I think this was a good idea? My stomach was so knotted I doubted I could eat anything if I tried, and it didn't help that Lupin was practically pressed against my side.

After a few awkward moments, in which it became apparent that I wasn't about to fly into a bloodthirsty craze and kill everyone around me, the group went back to their conversations, not bothering to include me in any of them. I was perfectly content with that, however, opting to stare blankly at my empty plate while my fingers twisted the hem of my skirt anxiously.

"You should eat something."

I started so violently my knees banged into the table, swearing and turning to look at Lupin, who was now eyeing me weirdly.

"'m not hungry," I mumbled, rubbing my sore kneecaps and knowing there would be bruises later.

"Are you all right, Piper?"

I flinched at his use of my name – it was too casual, too _familiar._ If possible, my stomach double-knotted itself.

"Totally fine," I said. "Quite healthy, actually."

He stared at me.

"I'm fine," I said. "In fact, I'm so fine that I think I'm going to skive breakfast. See you later."

I attempted to rise from my seat, but Black's patronizing voice kept me down, and I looked to him sharply when he addressed me.

"So, Pimply, now that we're all friends again, why don't you tell us what you've been up to these last few years?" he said, and judging by the glitter in his eyes I knew this was not going to end well. "I heard you've been slagging around since we were last on good terms."

"Piper doesn't slag around," Becca said, coming immediately to my defense. "She's had a few boyfriends here and there, but she's no Diana Cresswell."

"That's not what Bertram Aubrey said."

My heart dropped like a stone, entangling itself in my messy insides as Black grinned nastily at me.

"Did you really give it up to him in the library, Pimply? He said he had to keep covering your mouth you were moaning so loud, practically _begging_ for him — "

"Sirius — " Potter said, but Black ignored him, continuing on as the room seemed to press closer around me, suffocating me —

"Tell me, Pimply, did you like it?" he said, leaning in, and the whole table seemed to hold their breath. "When you traded your virginity for his O.W.L. notes? When he bent you over that table and _fucked_ you — "

"Sirius!" Lupin snapped, and his voice was so thick with rage it trembled, but I barely heard it. It was happening all over again, I could _see_ it – fuck, I was going to be sick.

Wordlessly, I pushed myself to my feet and stumbled out of the Great Hall, unaware of what was going on around me. All I could see was that library, and the whorls of grain in the wood of that table, and my body —

I gave a loud sob, startling a group of Hufflepuff third-years walking into the Hall, but I kept walking, unheeding of where exactly I was going. I found myself in the first-floor corridor, and the first alcove I came to I collapsed inside of it, sobs wracking my body.

God, it was like a nightmare that wouldn't stop haunting me. I could feel the table digging into my stomach and hips, feel the pain and numbness spreading through my body all at once. I was fucking _helpless._ And he…he…

I retched, but seeing as I had nothing within me to throw up I just sat there gagging, struggling to breathe through my tears. Helpless. I'd been helpless. I did nothing. I _am_ nothing. Nothing but a joke, nothing but a fucking object for people to mock and hate and abuse. I was just the school slag, nothing more. And fuck, maybe I had deserved it. After wrecking everything with Dad and Archie, after being such a bitch to everyone in my life. I hadn't said no. Maybe I'd tried. Maybe that was why he had covered my mouth. I didn't want to know. I didn't want to _remember._ And Black – that son of a bitch had ruined everything. Ruined _me._

Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck._

Why couldn't I stop crying?

I barely stirred at the sound of footsteps, not even bothering to sit up. I must've looked a right mess, sprawled on the floor with a runny nose and mascara smeared around my eyes, but I couldn't find it in me to care. I didn't feel much of anything at all, really, even when Lily Evans sat down beside my head, not saying a word.

She stayed silent while I cried out the rest of my tears, never once looking at me, never once speaking to me or touching me, but for that, I was grateful. I'm sure any one of those things would've shattered me completely, but she merely sat as I pieced myself back together, tugging back on my worn and rusty armor.

"I never wanted it to happen," I said into the silence between us. "I told him I'd pay him back if he gave me some of his notes for the Herbology O.W.L. and tutored me a bit, but his definition of payment was different than mine."

Every word out of my mouth was hollow and raw, my throat aching under the weight of words I had kept to myself for too long. I had no idea what had possessed me to tell Evans of all people, but her wordless presence seemed to crack something open inside me, allowing everything to rush forth as if a dam had broken.

"I'm sure it wasn't his intention," I continued. "But not once did he stop and ask me if I was all right with it. He just…did it. And I didn't do anything to stop him."

"It's not your fault," Evans said finally, her voice firm. "He should've asked you."

I looked up at her, at her blazing emerald eyes and tight mouth, her expression torn between fury and a kind of sadness I had never experienced until now.

"When?" I asked her, and she flinched at my question.

"My fourth year," she said, clenching her fingers on the hem of her skirt. "The first time I ever drank at one of the parties after we had won the Quidditch Cup. He'd been a year older. I'm not sure either of us were sober enough to consent, but he'd taken me to his room anyway. The next thing I remember is waking up with my underwear gone and him passed out next to me."

"Did you tell anyone?" I asked quietly.

She shook her head slowly. "I was afraid of telling McGonagall or Dumbledore; I'd been drinking underage, and I was scared they weren't going to believe me because of that, blame me for being drunk or something. As for opening up about it…" She sighed. "It took me months to work up the courage to say something. I told my sister first." She smiled humorlessly. "She was beside herself; it was almost like she'd forgotten she hated me for a moment."

I listened to her as she spoke, her voice soft yet hard all at once, and that was when I knew I had severely underestimated Lily Evans. She was a fire unto herself, like a glowing hearth that welcomed you home at night, but also the inferno that could destroy you utterly if you got too close.

"I eventually ended up seeing someone my summer between fifth and sixth," she said. "Counseling helped; it allowed me to come to terms with it, almost, and let me understand that I couldn't change what had happened to me, but I didn't let it have to change me, as well – which is rubbish. Everyone changes after something like that, no matter how hard you try to strive for normal. It'll always be a part of you. That doesn't mean you have to let it ruin you."

She suddenly eyed me with those blazing eyes.

"Don't ever let someone belittle you over it," she said. "They will try to tear you down – hell, even your own mind will try to tear you down. But you just have to push back and be stronger. Take control of your life and your body. You didn't deserve it, and you didn't ask for it. You are stronger than what happened to you, and even if you don't feel like it, believe it. Because no one can break you. You are untouchable."

I was crying again, but this time I let her reach out and hug me, wrapping my arms around her as she squeezed me tightly, almost like a mother's embrace. She didn't even blink when I eventually drew away and left smears of makeup on her blouse, simply Charming it away with her wand as I struggled to regain my composure.

"It'll take time," she said, as I produced a handkerchief from my robes pocket and began wiping my face. "And maybe you'll never fully heal, but that scar can be your reminder; that you're a fighter, Piper."

"Thank you," I said, hoping those two words could convey everything I couldn't say aloud, but she seemed to understand, taking my hand and grasping it tight in her own.

"What happened after I left?" I asked once my tears had dried. I'd have to reapply my makeup all over again and probably perform a few charms to fix my blotchy cheeks and bloodshot eyes, but other than that I felt fine; not better, but like I could begin to put one foot in front of the other again.

Lily grimaced. "Chaos. Everyone was terribly angry – I thought Remus was going to punch Sirius, but Dorcas got there first."

I had to grin a little at that; Dorcas and I may have our differences and petty squabbles, but when push came to shove I knew she would always have my back.

"James was livid," she went on. "He practically dragged Sirius out of the Hall before any of the teachers could come near, and he had to tell Peter to keep Remus away from him for the time being. That was about when I left."

I sat for a minute, thinking over all she had just told me. The girls were loyal to a fault, obviously, but it was hard to imagine Lupin being so angry. He'd never been the aggressive type, but he must've grown a spine since last I was friends with him. Speaking of friends…

Whatever truce with Lupin had to be off after this. Black and I would never be able to stand each other, and I didn't fancy being caught in the middle of another situation that involved people choosing sides. It was just too complicated.

"Are you up for class?" Evans asked. "We have about ten minutes before morning lessons start if you want to freshen up a bit." She hesitated, before adding, "I can walk with you, if you want."

I glanced to her, startled.

"You know, Evans," I said. "That's not too shabby of an idea."

She flushed a little, but stood up and offered her hand, I eyed it for a moment, vaguely wondering at how my life had gotten to this point – I mean, Lily Evans was offering _me_ her hand. How crazy was that? – before grabbing onto her wrist and hauling myself to my feet.

Maybe I'd lost my truce with Lupin. Maybe I'd be broken for a while. But walking arm-in-arm with Lily Evans, I thought that maybe, just maybe, I'd found myself a new truce, and perhaps I could begin to heal. I could be untouchable.

* * *

 *****Important A/N*****

 **To begin this A/N, I just want to say this: what happened to Piper is not going to be a major focus for this story. This is, after all, a romance, BUT that doesn't mean she will move on instantly from her trauma, and that sure as hell does not mean Remus is going to "fix" her in any way. Piper's journey to healing will be her own - yes, she will have support and people to care for her, but she will ultimately be dealing with this in the manner she chooses for herself, and how best to heal on her own. Secondly, it is my intention to write Piper's story as realistically as possible, and not romanticize anything she has been through and will go through. There is already too much romanticizing going on in today's world, and I will do my best not to become one of those sensationalized writers.**

 **That being said, I would like anyone to come to me if they have questions or comments on how I am choosing to handle this issue. I tried to give a brief explanation of my reasoning above, but if you still have comments/concerns, feel free to PM me. I love connecting with my readers and I love hearing your insight - anything you have to say I am willing to hear. This chapter was a lot more serious than others, but it's not my intention to suddenly turn this story so dark and brooding. Piper will still shine as bright as ever, and I hope all of you will still stick around to watch her grow and continue her story.**

 **If you read this far, thank you for taking the time to read what I had to say. In the meantime, reviews are much appreciated, and reminder to PM me if you have something you want to say not in a review! I love you all!**

 **xx**


	11. The Fine Line Between Love and Black

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **Welcome back! I'd like to thank all of you who left such lovely and helpful feedback on the last chapter. It is immensely wonderful to know what you all think, and it helps me out a lot to know what I am doing right or wrong.**

 **That being said, I would like to thank guest reviewer Tyallla for pointing out a pretty large error I had made in the previous chapter and helping me realize how I had made that mistake. It has since been corrected, so thank you for pointing that out!**

 **Thank you for all the new favorites/follows, and thank you to all of my other reviewers from last time: LoveFiction2017, Smiley83832, Epochs, RunningGolden, HappyTerrier, lilrilakkuma, crying saucers, Sparky She-Demon, and XxXBeautifulXxXDreamerXxX! I loved hearing from all of you!**

* * *

Chapter Eleven: The Fine Line Between Love and Black

I kept mostly to myself that weekend.

The girls, as lovely as they are, sensed my need for space and left me to my own devices until I was ready. I think they had figured out the gist of what all had gone down with Bertram Aubrey last term, considering how messed up I had been since starting sixth year, and I was relieved that I didn't have to spill my guts again so soon after I had first talked to Evans.

Dorcas had been in a right state since breakfast Friday morning, and I'd noticed she hadn't gone to Madam Pomfrey to heal her bruised knuckles and she hadn't done it herself either, instead choosing to walk around with a swollen hand. Becca had taken it upon herself to visit the kitchens and ask some of the house-elves to occasionally bring me tea or biscuits, which I found endearing, if not a little coddling. And Emmeline, blessed little soul she was, seemed to be the only one who still acted normally with me, obviously sensing that normalcy was really the only thing I wanted and needed.

I hadn't seen any of the Marauders since that one morning, either. Evans had informed me that Potter was keeping them on lockdown, though she'd sounded funny saying it. It took me until that night to figure out why though, as I'd sat with Emmeline while she filled out her star charts for N.E.W.T. Astronomy, being the nerd she was; the full moon was Saturday, which meant Lupin would be transforming. I didn't see how his lycanthropy had anything to do with the others, but I was grateful for their temporary absence. It'd probably spare me from pulling a Dorcas and decking Black in his pretty face.

Sunday afternoon I decided to go to the library, partly to catch up on the week's worth of homework I hadn't done, but mostly to get out of Gryffindor Tower. The anxiety of running into any one of the Marauders was too much, and I was perfectly content with my quiet, normal weekend, thank you very much.

I'd forgotten just how quiet the library was. My footsteps sounded like thunderclaps in the large room as I headed for one of the front tables, eyeing the hidden back ones uneasily. Okay, so maybe I hadn't come here just to do homework. Maybe this was me taking Evans's advice and starting that healing process. They said it was best to face your fears head-on, and while I didn't exactly fear anything, I decided to apply the same rule here. I had to face the music, or else I'd probably be stuck in a loop on repeat forever.

I hadn't been back in here since before OWLs, and I was beginning to feel feverish the longer I tried to focus on my Transfiguration essay. I kept scratching my legs, my fingernails rubbing my skin raw underneath my denim pants, and my right foot wouldn't stop tapping. God, this chair was so uncomfortable; no amount of fidgeting made it better either.

I wrote out a sentence for my essay. _The first exception to Gamp's Elemental Law of Transfiguration is food – food cannot be Conjured from thin air, and it cannot be Transfigured from nothing._

Sweat was beading on my forehead.

 _Concentrate. Concentrate._

The dim lights, the dark corner. The table. There'd been an ink splotch on the table. I hadn't taken my eyes off it.

 _Concentrate._

This had been a bad idea. Not even bothering for my ink to finish drying, I grabbed my essay, quill, and inkpot and shoved them hastily into my bag, striding for the door. Madam Pince, the librarian, shot me a nasty look as I pushed past her and a giant stack of floating books, but I didn't care, only focusing on the great doors in front of me.

I practically threw myself into the corridor, breathing heavily and feeling like I had just run a marathon. Angry tears pricked my eyes.

What the fuck was wrong with me? I couldn't even walk into the library without feeling like a pathetic crybaby. I couldn't even look at a bloody _book_ without feeling sick.

 _Fuck this,_ I thought angrily. _Fuck_ him _for doing this to me._

 _Time,_ Evans's voice reminded me. _It takes time. Healing takes time._

I didn't _want_ to fucking heal. I just wanted everything to go back to how it used to be. I wanted to be normal again. I wanted Archie to love me again. I wanted my family to be whole again. I just wanted everything to be bloody _normal._

Fuck. _Fuck._

I spun on my heel, heading back to Gryffindor Tower before I could lose it again, only to collide with something solid as I turned the corner.

"FUCK OFF!" I shouted, my temper bubbling over, and I attempted to brush past the person I had run into before I heard Black's voice say, "Everlark?"

I walked faster, my blood boiling.

"Everlark. Everlark, bloody wait, will you?"

"NO!" I yelled, wheeling around to face him. I vaguely registered his black eye, but somehow, this only made me angrier. "YOU DON'T GET TO SAY _SHIT_ TO ME. I WAS DOING _FINE_ UNTIL YOU RUINED EVERYTHING BY OPENING YOUR SODDING MOUTH. NOW FUCK OFF, AGAIN."

I got two steps before slouching against the wall, bawling my eyes out. Of fucking course. Because that was all I did nowadays – cry, cry, and more crying. I was _sick_ of it.

If I could've breathed through my tears I would've started screaming again as Black approached me. He was clearly out of his depth, and I don't think I'd ever seen him look so uncomfortable as he hovered near my shoulder uncertainly.

"C'mon," he said quietly, nudging me. "C'mon, love."

Despite all my rage, I allowed him to pull me gently along the corridors, my feet dragging on the stones as I sniffled. We didn't run into anyone, thank God, and I somehow got the feeling that he was doing this on purpose, leading us down passageways and corridors I had never even seen until we reached the Hufflepuff Basement.

He reached out to a painting of a bowl of fruit, tickling a pear that giggled before turning into a doorknob. He opened the door and ushered me inside the kitchens, leading me to a long table that resembled the Gryffindor one in the Great Hall above and sitting me down.

"Hot cocoa," he ordered one of the house-elves. "And chocolate, whatever you have."

The house-elf nodded before scurrying off, and I grabbed one of the napkins off the table, using it to wipe my eyes.

"Just because I'm crying doesn't mean I'm on my period, Black," I said, blowing my nose, and his handsome face tilted into the tiniest of smirks. "I don't need chocolate."

"Chocolate helps everything," he said. "Remus taught us that, remember?"

My gut spasmed at the mention of Lupin, but he didn't seem to notice.

"You should really use 'please,'" I said, referring to the house-elves.

He looked sheepish. "Old habit," he said. "Our house-elf back home is a miserable git. Was," he corrected himself with a frown.

"Did it die?"

He snorted. "I wish. Nah, I just don't live there anymore. Moved in with James and his parents last summer."

Well, that was news to me. I knew Black had a rocky relationship with his family ever since he became a Gryffindor, but I never knew just how bad it had gotten.

"Oh," I said for lack of anything better. "Right."

We fell into silence as several house-elves scuttled over, carrying two mugs of hot cocoa and a platter of chocolate that looked as if it had been chopped right off the slab. I gave Black a pointed look as they bowed.

"Thank you," he said, nodding to the house-elves, who looked about ready to implode at his acknowledgement before they whisked away. I swear one of them even burst into tears, before the sound was immediately muffled.

I took a sip from the hot cocoa, flinching when it burned my tongue, but it was so good I didn't stop drinking it, letting the mug warm my hands. Only after we had drained our drinks and started nibbling on the chocolate did Black speak.

"I wanted to apologize," he said, his eyes trained on the chunk of chocolate in his fingers. "For Friday, I mean. What I said…"

He shook his head, scowling. "I don't know what came over me. It was a cheap shot, and I'm sorry."

He inhaled deeply while I sat, watching him.

"Looking back on everything Aubrey said…" I flinched involuntarily at the sound of his name, and Black just looked…sad. "I don't think the story he told was true at all. That was evident by the look on your face. And just now, outside of the library…"

Fuck. Oh, motherfucker. Black was so much more perceptive than I thought. He'd pieced it together, I could tell just by looking into his eyes.

"I'm so sorry," he breathed. "Ever – Piper, please believe me when I say I didn't know. I'm so fucking sorry."

"I don't want your pity," I said, and even though my voice lacked any of its usual bite, he still winced as if I had struck him. I sighed, rubbing my hands up and down my face. "It's not your fault, Black, I know that."

I looked down to my empty mug, finding it metaphorical.

"It's just… I tried so hard to repress it. Just forget it, like it was all some bad dream. And then you said those things, and it was like whatever glass bubble I had kept myself in shattered." He opened his mouth, but I shook my head, continuing. "And as shitty as you made me feel, you also made me realize something. That I couldn't keep living in that… _illusion._ That I have to face what happened to me, and move forward as best I can.

"I don't want to think about what would have happened had I kept going on the way I was. Maybe I would've convinced myself it _was_ a dream, maybe I would've repressed it. But what about in ten, twenty, thirty years, when it would all come crashing down on me one day? I don't think I could've survived that. So in a way…thank you, I guess. For opening my eyes or whatever."

I suddenly fixed him with a hard stare. "That doesn't mean that what you did was fair. You were cruel, Black. You've humiliated me time and again, but even for you, this was too far."

He cringed. "I know. Godric, Piper, I fucking know. And I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for everything." He blinked rapidly, and it took me a second to process that he was trying to hold back tears. Holy shit. Sirius Black. Crying. The fuck?

"I hated you," he admitted, and I blinked. This was no shock, of course – I _knew_ he hated me, but hearing him say it was something else. "I hated you for so long. I had no one except for James, Remus, and Peter. My family turned their backs on me as soon as I was Sorted, and I was so scared of being abandoned like that again. And when you came along, I was so happy. I had another friend, one who didn't act accordingly just because of my name, one who could see past everything and just…see me."

Great. Now _I_ was the one holding back tears.

"When you left, I thought of you as just like everyone else in my life who had abandoned me. And I hated you for that. I wanted you to feel as bad as I felt." He scoffed, and I could see his lower lip trembling. "But I never wanted to cause you this much pain. And no amount of apologies can ever fix this, but I just… Fuck, I'm sorry."

I wordlessly handed him a napkin, waiting as he composed himself. Everything he said had cut me right to the bone, but I stayed silent until he had calmed down.

"I missed you," I said finally. "All of you. Even after I had convinced myself that you were no good and I was better off without you, I couldn't ever stop myself from wondering what it would have been like had I stayed your friend." I frowned. "I don't…regret leaving. I think the thing that I actually regret the most was never being humble enough to apologize sooner, and be your friend again."

"Gryffindor pride," Black snorted suddenly. "A wonderful but oddly stunting trait."

I chuckled, taking a bite out of the half-melted chocolate in my hand. "True."

"So, what does this mean?" he asked a few moments later, and I raised my brows. "For us? Remus told us about your, er, truce."

I studied him carefully, weighing my options. He was right – my Gryffindor pride was clawing its way to the surface, but couldn't I swallow that down once more? I needed friends. I couldn't deny myself that anymore. And Black…for all his melodramatic and sometimes ill-intentioned ways, he was loyal, and once upon a time, I could have considered him a brother. And maybe I needed that again.

"I think a new treaty could be arranged," I said, and he gave me a lopsided grin that would have made many a girl immediately drop her panties. "Find me later this week, and perhaps we can write one up."

"Aye, aye, Captain Everlark," he said, giving me a mock salute.

"That's Piper to you, bastard."

"And that's _Sirius_ to you, ninny."

Yeah, I thought, this was more like it.

* * *

Remus was sick of the bloody Hospital Wing.

Madam Pomfrey was wonderful, of course; she always was, considering how fond she was of him, but the kind matron could only go so far as to provide him with stimulating conversation. Once the small talk of school and lessons had been exhausted, she retreated into her office to replenish the potions she had given him that morning, while he was confined to his cot, waiting to feel better so he could leave.

Over the years, his transformations had become somewhat bearable, as much as he loathed them, but these last few moons were taking a toll on him. He could feel it aching in his bone marrow, moving sluggishly through his bloodstream, making him more tired and pained than he usually was when he came back to himself the morning after. It wasn't hard to figure out why, really; his mother had told him when he was younger that certain stresses in his human mind could take over when he became the wolf, making him more aggressive and violent than what should be normal. He was sure she had gotten that out of some book she had found after he had been bitten as a child, but for once, the information was accurate.

Piper Everlark – though he could never blame her – that was all on him and his damned curse, he thought bitterly – had been on his mind from the moment she had hexed Sirius on the Hogwarts Express more than a month ago, and it wasn't difficult to pinpoint the origins of his stress. The last two months had seen nothing but a whirlwind of emotions between them, and after what had happened Friday, before his transformation…well, suffice to say, the wolf had been in agony. Even if he lost his human mind during his transformations, the echo of the wolf's was always there, and it had been torture for him. If it weren't for the others, he was sure he would have torn the Shrieking Shack to nothing but rubble last night.

He was furious with Sirius – he had had no right to say those things to her. And Piper… Remus had seen the look on her face before she fled the Hall. Sirius hadn't just insulted her – he'd broken her.

Remus's hands clenched into fists involuntarily at the mere recollection of what had transpired. He'd maintained a stone-cold silence since the incident, wanting to wait until after the full moon to confront his mate, or else… Well, his moods were always volatile leading up to the moon, and he shuddered at the thought of what he might've done in his anger. Given him more than a black eye, that was for sure.

The other thing that worried him was that everything he had just worked so hard for with Piper was ruined. Just when he had made amends with her, Sirius had to go and blow it all up right back in his face. It had been hard enough getting her to agree to stop being enemies the first time, and now Remus feared he had lost her for good. Any chance of reconciliation had evaporated, and that thought alone was enough to make him want to hit something.

Around mid-afternoon, Remus awoke from a light doze to the sound of echoing laughter, and he rolled his eyes as he recognized the voices of his friends heading for the Hospital Wing, no doubt to see how he was doing. He scowled as he deciphered Sirius's barking laugh over all the others, and he sat up in his cot slowly, willing himself to remain calm.

The doors burst open and in trotted James, Sirius, and Peter, the three still chuckling over some joke as they headed for Remus's bed.

"Moony!" James cried. "Just the man I wanted to see."

"How are you feeling?" Peter asked in a low voice, and Remus had to refrain from rolling his eyes; the mousy boy was too much of a worry-wart.

"Fine," he answered offhandedly, his eyes flicking over Sirius briefly before scowling, his teeth clenching together.

James and Peter exchanged a look, and Remus dug his fingers into the blanket.

"Remus," James started, "listen — "

"What the bloody hell were you playing at?" Remus snapped, speaking over James and fixing his glare on Sirius, who shuffled anxiously from foot to foot.

"I dunno," Sirius said quietly, looking guilty. "Something just came over me, and I wasn't thinking — "

"Well, that much is obvious," he said, and Sirius winced at the frost in his tone. "After everything I did to convince her that I was sorry — "

"Nothing's changed!" Sirius said hastily. "Moony, listen, I talked to her today. I apologized and everything. It's all right, really; she doesn't hate us. Certainly not you."

Remus paused, his mouth still gaping, but whatever scathing retort he had planned on coming out had suddenly disappeared. Piper didn't hate him?

Sirius grinned. "The water's finally under the bridge, mate. You have your Pied Piper back."

Remus instantly blanched, looking to Sirius in horror as the others choked on their laughter.

"I don't – that's not – I called her that when I was twelve!" he said, aghast. "You can't hold that over me!"

"I'm sure she'd love it if you called her that now," James said, snickering. "She'd probably send a sweet little jinx your way."

Peter laughed harder, and Remus groaned, his face reddening. "Please don't make me regret this."

* * *

The MAC was in full swing Wednesday.

Now that auditions were over, we had to begin staging the play, which was a lot easier said than done, I realized. It was hard enough trying to memorize my lines outside of the club meetings considering all the N.E.W.T. work I had to do (turning over a new leaf, remember?), but it was even harder considering all the other stuff I had to memorize: movements, stage directions, cues, all that other drama geek stuff.

Flitwick had made Evans our stage manager, which was generous of him, especially after her horrendous audition. The redhaired Gryffindor was in her zone, though, barking directions at us and making sure everything was running smoothly, as Flitwick seemed more invested in that night's _Evening Prophet_ than whatever we were doing. As annoying as she was sometimes, she at least knew what she was doing, and it kept us from being too much of a disaster as we rehearsed.

As they began rehearsing the first scene with Theseus, Hippolyta, and Philostrate (played by an incredibly weird cast of a fifth-year Hufflepuff named Leo Alvarez, a fourth-year Ravenclaw named Katie Stiefel who didn't seem to know the difference between her right and left, and some freak of a first-year who ran around with the Fortescue kid), I stood off to the side, attempting to memorize my lines.

"'These are the forgeries of jealousy. And never, since the middle summer's spring/met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead/By paved fountain, or by rushy brook/Or in the beached margent of the sea/To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind/But with thy brawls thou hast disturbed our sport. Therefore the winds…'"

I trailed off, my mind blanking on the next part. I sighed in frustration, pulling out my script from where I had stuffed it into the back of my skirt, only to fumble and nearly drop it when someone began speaking behind me.

"I'm surprised you don't remember the next line," Lupin said, approaching me with a slight grin as he held up his own script. "It has your name in it."

"'Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain,'" I said, startled that he was actually right. "Yeah, I got it now. Thanks."

I went back to reading my script, my eyes unseeing as I was acutely aware of his presence. I hadn't spoken to him since the incident, though I'd tried to acknowledge him when I could in the corridors or at meals. Trying to keep up that truce and all. Still, that didn't stop me from becoming instantly on-edge whenever he was around me.

"Er, how are your lines coming along?" I asked him, nodding to the script. "Lysander, right?"

"Yeah," he said, flicking idly through the pages. "They're coming. I just have to focus more on the longer scenes, but other than that I think I'm doing all right. You?"

I waved my script around sarcastically. "You're witnessing it. I've got nothing."

"Oh, do you need help?" he asked. I raised my brows at him, and suddenly he looked…nervous? "I mean, it doesn't have to be me specifically, of course – I think other people have formed little study groups, kind of, and I was saying you could join one of those if you need help with your lines – not that you _do_ need help with your lines, it was just a suggestion — "

Good Lord, watching him struggle was painful.

"I got it, Lupin, thanks," I said, fighting to hold back a grin at his sheepish expression. "Study groups aren't really my thing though. I prefer one-on-one."

I gave him a pointed look, and his eyebrows shot up. "You want to work with me?"

"That's kinda what the look was for," I said, and he rolled his eyes, but he was grinning. "But yeah. I mean, that's what acquaintances do, right? Help each other out?"

He seemed almost… _happy._ That was weird. When was the last time I had ever seen Remus Lupin so _happy?_

"Yeah," he said. "They do."

We shared a small smile, perhaps holding it for a little too long before I cleared my throat and looked away, my face strangely warm as I brandished my script.

"All right, then," I said. "Let's get to work, Lysander!"

He rolled his eyes. "As you wish, Titania."

I didn't notice the way his face flushed after he said that, because I was already hoping he hadn't noticed me do the same thing.

Ugh. Drama, right? (And I didn't mean the play).

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	12. It Feels Good to Be Bad

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling._ _Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **Hello all!**

 **It feels good to be back. This past month has been the most difficult chapter of my life so far, but having this site and writing have been a wonderful outlet for everything, and all of the support I have received from you, dear readers, has helped me more than you could ever know. I love all of you so much!**

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Chapter Twelve: It Feels Good to be Bad

The wind was fierce that morning. The normally smooth surface of the Black Lake rippled with every gust, disturbing the quicksilver water, and the leaves of the beech tree above where we were sitting hissed as the breeze rattled through them. It was chilly too, but I didn't mind the cold, enjoying the way the tips of my ears and my cheeks burned. Unfortunately, Emmeline didn't feel the same way.

"Merlin, it's cold out here," she said, struggling in vain to keep her dark hair out of her face. "I dunno how you stand it, Pipes."

"Can't be cold when your heart's already ice, Em," I joked, leaning back against the trunk of the tree, and she rolled her eyes at me.

"I doubt that," she said, and I raised my brows as she fiddled with her scarf, pulling it up to her chin.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked. Not rudely; I was just genuinely curious.

She shrugged. "It's nothing, really. It's just…you've been awfully happier these last two weeks."

I laughed, her statement unexpected. "What, am I forbidden to be happy?"

"No!" she said, her olive face reddening more than it had been from the cold. "Godric, Piper, no, I didn't mean it like that. I meant that it's just great to see you this way again. It's like the old you is back."

I didn't immediately respond, mulling over her words thoughtfully. I guess Emmeline was right, in a way. Perhaps I wasn't _happier,_ but my life had seemed more… _stable_ for the last couple of weeks. As if I had been in freefall and the world was just now righting itself under my feet. The burden I had been carrying for so long had seemed to lessen some, and it was like I could finally breathe again.

It also helped that my war with the Marauders was officially over. The last big hurdle had been to deal with Potter before the ceasefire could truly take effect, and it had gone a lot better than expected.

The day following Black's apology to me, I had been departing Professor McGonagall's class when Potter cornered me, ignoring the looks all the students were sending us as he practically thrust me against the wall.

"Sheesh, Potter, if you want me so bad you could've just taken me to a broom cupboard," I said before I could help myself, but instead of reacting with a hex, as he would have before, he just grinned.

"Piper, dear, as lovely as you are, you know my heart beats only for Evans," he said, and I snorted.

"First name basis again, eh?" I replied, and his grin widened.

"Well, since Sirius reported back to us yesterday about your heartwarming conversation, I thought I'd take up the olive branch, as well," he said. He rummaged through his robe pockets for a minute, pulling out all kinds of miscellaneous items before producing a piece of folded up parchment and handing it to me.

"What's this?" I asked, taking the parchment warily and opening it to reveal four names already scrawled in black ink: _James Fleamont Potter, Sirius Orion Black, Remus John Lupin, Peter Eustace Pettigrew._

"Who gives their child a middle name like _Eustace?"_ I said incredulously, and Potter laughed. "But seriously, what is this?"

"Our treaty," he said proudly, puffing out his chest a bit. "When you sign it, the ceasefire will instantly go into effect."

"There's nothing written on it," I pointed out. "You just signed a blank piece of paper."

He frowned. "Do I look like someone who would write up an entire treaty?"

"Yes, actually."

His frown deepened, and he mumbled something under his breath. "Sorry, didn't catch that. What?"

"I said I may or may not have one written in my room right now," he said, and I attempted to keep a straight face, only nodding and looking back to the names. "So, what exactly does this treaty say?"

He shrugged, pushing his glasses further up his nose. "Typical treaty rubbish: no fighting, no insulting, no hexing or jinxing or cursing except in good-nature to all of the above, so on and so forth…"

"Sounds good to me," I said, shrugging casually, but on the inside, all I felt was intense relief. "Got a quill?"

He dug through his pockets again, handing me a quill that still had some ink on the tip, to my confusion, but I didn't question it. At the bottom of the parchment I signed my name in big loopy letters: _Piper Elain Everlark._

"Your initials spell 'pee,' y'know that, right?" he asked as I returned the parchment and quill, and I gave him a deadpan look that he beamed at.

"Don't push your luck, James," I said, and he shot me a wink as he began striding down the corridor.

"Welcome home, Pipes," was all he said before he was gone.

That had been two weeks ago, and since then, things had been nice. Weird, but nice. The whole school had seemed to notice the change too, which was awkward in the extreme. The lack of drama between the Marauders and my friends and I was surely a shock, and most everyone treated me like I had Imperiused the boys or something into not hating me. Most of the seventh-year Gryffindors were being nice though, probably more out of respect for the Marauders than for me, but I didn't mind. Even the staff had begun to relax around me a bit – I swear I even saw Professor McGonagall wipe a tear from her eye at dinner the other night when she saw me sitting next to Remus and laughing.

"I dunno about the 'old me,'" I told Emmeline honestly, yanking at the brittle grass near my feet. "I don't think I could ever be her again. But a new me?" I shrugged, pulling up some of the grass and letting the wind take it from my hand, watching it float away. "I think I could agree with that."

Emmeline smiled, resting her head on my shoulder, and I threw one arm around her in a hug, glad for her comfort and friendship more than ever. She had always been the nicer one out of all of us, and her heart was in the right place even when ours never were sometimes, and I realized then that I would be grateful to her forever. Even if we never saw each other again after graduating next year, I knew I would always love her. That's just the kind of impact Emmeline had.

"C'mon, you batty witch," she said a few moments later. "Let's get inside before my bum freezes to the ground."

I laughed, following her into the castle and entering the Great Hall a few moments later. We were early to lunch that day, but we took our new seats in the middle of the Gryffindor table where the Marauders, the seventh-year girls, Dorcas, Becca, and our boys (who were baffled but pleasantly so) sat at meals every day.

It didn't take long for other students to start trickling in from their lessons and breaks, but I still drummed my fingers on the table, staring intently at the spot where the food would appear as Emmeline penned a letter to her parents, who were visiting her grandparents in the Philippines, as she had informed me earlier. I was so focused on my hunger that I didn't even notice someone was standing over my shoulder until a hauntingly familiar voice said, "Piper?"

Oh, my God. Please tell me this wasn't happening. This couldn't be real. Why was _he_ here, speaking to me? I'd avoided him like the plague ever since we'd come back from holiday. Could he not take a hint and like, disappear forever?

My palms were instantly clammy, and my mouth turned dry as I kept my eyes on the table, refusing to look behind me. I couldn't do it. It was too soon. Oh, God, why…

"Aubrey," Emmeline said sharply from beside me, turning _his_ attention from me to her, allowing air to refill my lungs once more. "You shouldn't be here."

He chuckled, and the sound of that throaty laugh made me want to run from the Hall and vomit.

"The Ravenclaw-Gryffindor match isn't for another month, Vance," he drawled. "Or are you starting your House rivalry sooner than that?"

"You're not welcome here," she said coldly, and if I hadn't felt so sick I would've been shocked; I'd never heard Emmeline speak like that to anyone.

"And does that have anything to do with why Potter and Black cornered me today?" he asked sarcastically, and my head snapped up at this.

Keeping my eyes trained forward, I said, "What did they do that for?" God, even just speaking in his general direction was making my knees shake.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," he said, his voice tinged with the faintest edge of exasperation. "They demanded I stay away from their friends or else they'd jinx me into oblivion, but considering the only one of their 'friends' I have engaged with is you…well, it wasn't too hard to put together. After all, I am a Ravenclaw."

Pompous, smug arse. If I wasn't afraid of throwing up I'd turn around and punch him right there. But I couldn't face him. My eyes burned as I realized this, and I clenched my fists so hard I could feel my nails breaking through the skin. I couldn't even face him.

"Maybe you should take their advice," I said flatly, "and leave me the hell alone."

"I just want to be sure we're on the same page, Piper," he said curtly. "Perhaps you said something to your newfound friends that wasn't entirely truthful, and I think that the air needs to be cleared a bit — "

"What's going on here?"

My sudden grip on my wand didn't relax, even when the Marauders appeared out of nowhere. James's voice cracked out like a whip, and I sensed _him_ take an automatic step back. Good.

"Just having a chat, Potter," he said coolly. "Last I checked, there's no harm in that, is there?"

"Last _I_ checked, we told you to stay away from our friends," Sirius said, and I could hear the infamous Black sneer in his voice. "So if you'd like to keep looking like a smarmy git and not sprout tentacles or anything, I suggest you go back to your table."

There was a tense moment where _he_ sputtered, before retreating rapidly, his footfalls disappearing in the noise of the Hall, but still I didn't let go of my wand.

That bastard. That unimaginable, absolute son of a bitch. He wasn't sorry for what he did to me. He didn't care. All he cared about was _his_ image, not mine. After all, I was the slut, wasn't I? Hell, he probably thought I wanted it. He didn't see the faults or the cracks, the grey area that he had crossed into and dragged me kicking and screaming with him. I wanted to feel sorry for him; maybe he hadn't known what he'd done, but that didn't make it fine. I didn't have to accept that.

 _"No one can break you,"_ Evans's voice reminded me. _"You are untouchable."_

"Hey, Aubrey!"

The Ravenclaw turned at the sound of my voice carrying over the babbling students, and I forced myself to my feet as his eyes fastened on me curiously. Before he could even open his mouth, however, I had already pointed my wand at his forehead. _"Engorgio Skullus!"_

There was a horrible moment of silence as everyone turned to stare, and Aubrey blinked at me, confusion written all over his face.

Shit. It hadn't worked. The spell —

Aubrey suddenly gave a shout of surprise, and in the next second, his head had begun to swell like a balloon, faster and faster until thirty seconds had passed and it was now the size of a watermelon. People gasped, rooted to the spot as they watched his head enlarge at a rapid pace, but I thought it was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen.

I choked on my laughter, my vindictiveness cheering inside my head, and soon all the students in the vicinity were roaring with laughter too as Aubrey's head kept inflating, his panicked cries drowned out by the noise. He looked to me, shouting something about the countercurse, but I simply shrugged; I'd conveniently forgotten to look up the reverse spell, so there was really nothing I could do. And honestly? It felt good to be bad again.

Of course, not everyone found it funny.

"WHIMBLESBY!"

Ah, bugger. I forgot about Filch.

The surrounding students immediately dispersed as the caretaker hobbled over, his deranged cat right on his heels. He glared at me with his squinty eyes, taking in the scene of me standing before Aubrey, who's head was now so large it resembled a pumpkin.

"Yes, Mr. Filch?" I asked innocently, and he scowled at me.

"What is the meaning of this?" he hissed, gesturing to Aubrey. "Using an illegal hex on a fellow student?"

I shrugged casually, and his face turned puce, but before he could lose his mind James stepped in, an easy grin on his face.

"Relax, Filch, she wasn't the one who cast the spell," he said, twirling his wand between his fingers and winking at me when I stared. "It was me."

"And me," Sirius added, stepping to James's side and shooting me a wink. "The git deserved it, if you ask me."

Filch's face purpled, and his chest seemed to swell at Sirius's comment. _"I did not ask — "_

"Argus, whatever is the matter here?" Professor McGonagall said, striding up to our group and her mouth falling open when she saw Aubrey, who was now groaning and struggling to keep his head from drooping to the side. Her eyes tracked over me, then Sirius and James, before she let out a long sigh. "I see."

"These two are claiming they're the ones who did it, but I saw Whimblesby cast the spell," Filch growled, and McGonagall looked around wildly for a moment.

"Whimblesby?" she said. "Who's Whimblesby?" She looked to me, and her brows furrowed in bewilderment. "Do you mean Miss Everlark?"

Filch grunted. "Who?"

McGonagall blinked, as if absorbing the stupidity of the situation, before turning to James and Sirius. "Did you two or Miss Everlark cast the spell? And I want an honest answer, boys."

"Oh, it was us, Professor," James said readily.

"Definitely us," Sirius agreed, grinning at the stern witch, who merely looked perplexed and resigned all at once.

"Very well," she sighed after a long moment. "Argus, write them up and I will assign them detention later. Now everyone, go back to your seats and eat, and try not to jinx one another." She cast a look toward Aubrey, who was now whimpering under the weight of his head, and gestured to one of his Ravenclaw friends. "Mr. Jones, please escort Mr. Aubrey to the Hospital Wing."

I didn't watch the two Ravenclaws leave, my satisfaction already sated for the day, but instead turned to James and Sirius, who both looked as if Christmas had come early.

"Why did you do that?" I asked. "Now you're going to have detentions!"

"It was worth it," James said, a broad smile still on his face. "Being Head Boy is terrible; all the responsibility and no pranks! Besides, I miss detentions with Minnie. She loves us."

"Spare the protests, Pipes," Sirius said to the look on my face. "Think of it as our repayment to you for being such prats over the years."

I raised my brows. "You better be prepared for a lot more detentions, then."

They shared a smirk, and I glanced over to the table where all our friends were sitting, talking amongst themselves and occasionally throwing furtive glances over their shoulders at us. I caught Remus's eye, but before he could acknowledge me I had already looked away, my stomach flipping uncomfortably.

"What about Remus?" I said suddenly, and they seemed taken aback at my question. I lowered my voice, leaning in. "Obviously you two know what happened with Aubrey, but does he…you know…"

I trailed off, and the two boys exchanged a glance I couldn't decipher.

"No, we haven't told him," Sirius said. "And we don't think he knows – well, the extent of it, at least."

My shoulders sagged in relief as James added on to what Sirius had said. "He would've gone ballistic if we'd told him. Probably would've done a lot worse than you did to Aubrey. We figured it'd be best if you told him yourself, if ever you want to. That's not our place."

I nodded, chewing the inside of my cheek. I was grateful to them for not sharing anything with Remus, but now that left the decision of whether _I_ wanted to tell him or not. James and Sirius and most everyone else had suspected what had happened between Aubrey and me, so I'd never really said anything explicitly, only to Evans. But could I bear to tell him too? Would I even be able to?

"Thanks," I said, deciding that that was one thing I'd deal with later rather than sooner. "I'll…think about it."

They nodded, and I followed them back to the Gryffindor table, taking my customary seat between Becca and Remus, the latter watching me shrewdly as I began to pile food onto my plate.

"Piper, I'm amazed," Becca said, planting a swift kiss to my cheek. "I didn't know you could cast spells like that!"

"She used to be a geek, remember?" Dorcas said from across us, quirking a brow, and I grinned at her. Things had gone somewhat back to normal between us, but I knew we would have to talk eventually once the dust settled a bit more. She was my closest friend, and this awkwardness-but-not-awkwardness between us was frustrating. "There's no telling what kinds of things she has up her sleeves." She suddenly eyed me sternly. "And _don't_ make that an innuendo."

I pressed a hand over my heart, my anxiety over confronting Aubrey subsiding now that I was in the midst of my friends again, even though I knew that wouldn't be the end of things.

"I _never!"_ I said in a breathy, girlish voice. "A saintly woman like _me — "_

"Gross, someone stop her before she launches into some monologue," Dorcas said, rolling her eyes before fixing her golden gaze on Remus. "I blame you for encouraging her dramatic behavior, by the way. She's been insufferable ever since she joined that barmy club of yours."

Remus shot her a lopsided grin, the curve of his mouth tugging on his sharp cheekbone and making his right eye crinkle in the corner, and suddenly I found myself watching him intently as he replied to Dorcas jokingly, "In my defense, it was McGonagall who set her loose upon this castle, not me."

He looked to me, and I jolted when I realized that I'd been staring at the side of his face for way longer than what was considered normal. Shit. Had he noticed?

"I'm teasing, Pipes," he said in response to the grimace on my face, mistaking it for displeasure at his joke rather than the mortification aimed at myself. He bumped his knee against mine under the table, and I nodded jerkily, taking a hasty gulp of pumpkin juice so I wouldn't have to answer back. He looked bemused for a second, before turning back to James and asking him something I didn't bother listening to.

I'd been catching myself doing that a lot lately – staring at Remus Lupin, I mean. It was just so strange being in such close proximity to him again without us hurling barbed words or cruel jabs at each other, and considering the last time I had ever paid such close attention to him had been more than five years ago, it was like I was seeing an entirely different person.

Second-year Remus had been more reserved, more softer-spoken. He had lacked conviction (ahem, see aforementioned tale of The Day). He was smart, obviously, and sweet, and there had been a quiet sort of comfort to him that had drawn me close to him my first year at Hogwarts. He'd been easy-to-read – predictable, almost.

Seventh-year Remus had me floored. The last two weeks with him had been enough to prove that. Though not nearly as cocky or arrogant as James and Sirius, he had definitely gained a lot more confidence, but he still managed to retain his sense of reasoning and modesty. He'd become someone else – and though that wasn't a _bad_ thing, it certainly made everything more interesting. But ever since we'd become friends – _acquaintances_ – again, and started rehearsing my lines together in the evenings, I'd realized something terrible.

Remus John Lupin, my former-best-friend/crush-turned-friend- _acquaintance, dammit_ -again, werewolf extraordinaire, and Marauder – was _fucking hot._

My mortification upon unearthing this discovery had been a right shock to my system, let me tell you. I was surprised I hadn't keeled over from a heart attack on the spot.

We'd been walking back from our private rehearsal one evening, making small talk on our way to Gryffindor Tower, and I'd looked up to him to make some snarky reply when it hit me. There had been a patch of slanted sunlight coming in through one of the windows in the corridor, and the way the light had touched his face had made my breath stutter in my chest. Like holy _shit,_ did puberty do him well.

His sandy hair, streaked with a few strands of auburn and gold, practically glowed in the light, and his eyes became chips of pale green ice, bright and piercing. The few small scars that littered his face stood out in contrast to his tanned skin, but they only seemed to enhance his appearance, highlighting his sharp jaw and pointed cheekbones. Perhaps he still looked a little too rundown and shabby for someone so young, but it seemed to suit him – and me as well, apparently.

So that's what I've been dealing with for the better half of a month. Coming to terms with my acquaintance's attractiveness, that's all. But for the record, I did _not_ fancy Remus Lupin. Nope. No way. Been there, done that, never going back. But still, it never hurt anybody to admire from afar.

Or so I hoped.

* * *

"If I have to read one more line I'm jumping off the Astronomy Tower."

Remus gave me a wry look from where he was sitting on the edge of a desk in the empty classroom we used for our private rehearsals, quirking his mouth at me as I draped myself across several chairs, my script resting on my chest.

"We've only been working for thirty minutes," he pointed out. "And as a prefect, I cannot allow you to jump off the Astronomy Tower." He suddenly grinned wickedly. "However, as a Marauder, I would encourage you to do a backflip if you do."

He chuckled when I flipped him off.

"You're a comedic genius," I said, rolling my eyes and brandishing my script. "Fine, O Great One – let's keep going before I start practicing backflips."

He grinned. "We can take it from the part where Titania wakes up and sees Nick Bottom for the first time after Oberon and Robin put the spell on her."

"Gross," I said, flipping to the page and wrinkling my nose. "I can't believe _Pettigrew_ is playing Bottom. I have to act like I'm in love with him! Flitwick is cruel, just cruel."

"True," Remus conceded, "but he also gets to walk around with an ass for a head, so…"

I snorted at the image that provided, even if in this case 'ass' meant a donkey.

"Whatever," I said, getting to my feet and facing him. "Scene, I guess." I cleared my throat before beginning to read:

"'I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again. Mine ear is much enamored of thy note. So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape. And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move me/On the first view to say, to swear, I love thee.'"

Ugh, this was so gross. It was one thing saying this stuff to Remus, (see: extremely awkward) but the thought of having to say it to Pettigrew in front of the entire school was making my lunch come back up. Shuddering at the thought of confessing my love (albeit fake love) to Pettigrew in a few weeks' time, I tried to focus back in on Remus as he read Bottom's lines to me.

"'Methinks, mistress, you should have little reason for that. And yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together nowadays. The more the pity that some honest neighbors will not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek upon occasion.'"

I snorted. "What the hell does _that_ mean?"

"He's just kidding," he said, looking up from his script and grinning slightly. "Aren't you going to say your next line? You'll have to practice well since you're saying it to Peter."

"Stop reminding me," I groaned. "It's even weirder now since he won't talk to me like, _ever."_

Remus paused, glancing to me quizzically. "What do you mean?"

I gave him an incredulous look. "You haven't noticed that he practically flees from the room anytime I approach you guys? Or refuses to speak to me, or even look in my direction?"

Remus frowned. "No, I haven't, honestly. Are you sure you're not just catching him at the wrong time?"

"Considering everyone in this school has hated me for years, it's pretty easy for me to tell when someone dislikes me," I said sarcastically, and he grimaced.

"I don't think Pete dislikes you," he said, scratching at the faint stubble on his cheek that I tried not to stare at. "He's probably just trying to warm up to you again. After all, the poor sap practically worshipped you when he was twelve."

"That was a while ago," I reminded him, but I sighed when I realized that I was about to push this into an argument. _New leaf, Everlark. Stop being so stubborn._ "Ah, never mind. You're probably right. Let's keep practicing; we have about an hour until dinner, and I still need to do homework."

He merely shrugged, gesturing for me to say the next line, and I inwardly cringed, trying not to blush as I said, "'Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.'"

"Oh, c'mon, Piper, you need more conviction than that!" he said, and I knew from his expression that he was enjoying tormenting me. "Try it again. Look love-struck, not disgusted."

I glared at him before repeating the line, attempting to sound airier, but he shook his head before I was even finished.

"You're not feeling your character enough," he said. "Titania is under the effects of a love spell – she has no idea what's going on; all she knows is that she's 'in love' with Bottom. Whatever Titania is feeling isn't real, just like whatever you're saying to Peter isn't real – it's not how you truly feel."

Damn him, he made sense. No wonder why Flitwick made him the head of the MAC. The guy knew what he was doing.

"Try it one more time, and then we can move on," he said, obviously sensing he had won this battle. "But get into it; move around, do things that Titania might do in her love-drunk haze. Worry about Peter later; just focus on me right now."

Yeah, because acting like a lovey-dovey fool to Remus Lupin was _exactly_ what I wanted to do. Especially right after he mussed up his hair like _that_ and loosened his tie a bit. Ugh, I hated hormones. Why did they have to do this to me right now?

Squashing down whatever teen angst I was experiencing, I took a deep breath, beginning to prowl towards him as I imagined a lust-driven fairy would, attempting to appear regal and graceful like a queen as I repeated, "'Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.'"

"'Not so, either,'" he said to me, his face flitting between curiosity and nervousness, though his eyes never left mine as I came closer. "'But if I had wit enough to get out of this wood, I have enough to serve mine own turn.'"

I approached until I was near enough to reach out a hand and touch him, but he still didn't back down. Doing my best to not feel like an idiot, I gave him the sultriest look I could manage without bursting into laughter, and I swore he blushed. _Oh, yeah. I still got it. Thank you, sex eyes._

"'Out of this wood do not desire to go. Thou shalt remain here whether thou wilt or no. I am a spirit of no common rate.'" One step closer. "'The summer still doth tend upon my state. And I do love thee. Therefore go with me.'" I reached out and grasped his elbow, pulling him to me, and I ignored the way my stomach swooped at the contact, or the way his eyes were boring into me intently. "'I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee. And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep/And sing while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep. And I will purge thy mortal grossness so/That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.'"

I stopped there, since that was the part where the fairies came in, and looked up to him with a cheeky grin. "So, how was that?"

He seemed to take a few seconds to come back to himself, blinking slowly as if in a daze, before clearing his throat.

"Good," he said, and his voice came out oddly scratchy. "That was, er, really good."

"Excellent." I beamed, skipping over to my bag and thrusting my script inside. "Wanna hit the common room before dinner? I need to drop off my stuff in my dorm."

"Er…yeah," he said, nodding sluggishly. "Yeah, let's go."

We grabbed our things and departed the classroom, heading back for the Gryffindor common room. We'd practiced later than usual, the sun having already set behind the mountains in the distance as we walked down the empty corridor, for once staying silent instead of conversing like we normally did.

For some reason, that last session had given me a rush of adrenaline, and I could feel it thrumming in my veins as we continued on, the only sound our echoing footsteps. I snuck a glance at Remus, who was shuffling along beside me with his hands in his pockets, lost deep in thought and frowning slightly.

I suddenly flashed back to yesterday and everything that happened with Aubrey, and my conversation with James and Sirius. I still hadn't decided what I wanted to tell Remus – or if I even _should_ – but somehow, he seemed to read my mind, for he was then asking, "What happened with Aubrey yesterday?"

My steps faltered slightly, and I pretended to be very interested in the fraying strap of my bag as he looked over to me questioningly. Fuck. What did I say?

"He's a git," I said, shrugging and trying not to squirm under his scrutiny.

He snorted. "I gathered that much. But was he…bothering you, or something?"

Shit. He was stepping into a minefield now – unknowingly, of course, but still.

I crossed my arms over my chest, hoping that was indication enough that I wanted to get away from this subject as fast as possible, but he didn't seem to get the hint. "Piper, you can talk to me. You know that, right?"

"It's not something I want to talk about," I said stiffly, and he frowned.

"Was it about what Sirius had said?" he pressed, and unconsciously, I began walking faster. "Piper, hey, what's wrong? Piper — "

He reached out and grabbed my arm, and I snapped.

"No!" I shouted, ripping my arm free from his grasp, and he halted immediately, staring at me with wide eyes as I breathed heavily, suddenly feeling feverish.

"Please," I said quietly, refusing to make eye contact. "Please, just – don't, okay? I-I can't."

"Piper, I'm sorry — " he said, but I shook my head quickly.

"It's not your fault," I said. "I'll just, um, see you tomorrow. I'm not hungry anymore."

And before he could say another word I had sped off, leaving him alone in the dim corridor.

* * *

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	13. Crying is My New Hobby

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **Welcome back! This chapter is very short compared to the others, but hopefully as we move further along more can begin to happen again. I just felt like this chapter was a needed moment in the progression of things, and continuing it from where it ended would've been weird, I think. But I digress.**

 **Thank you for all the new favorites/follows, and thanks to my reviewers from last time: King bold, RunningGolden, heroherondaletotherescue, LoveFiction2017, AshleyMarieD, Kosongbird, hikazechimizu (Guest), Sugarcandy (Guest), KC (Guest), and Guest 1!**

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Chapter Thirteen: Crying is My New Hobby

Rehearsal was going about as well as could be expected – which meant poorly.

We'd only been here for an hour, during which Lily had managed to scream herself hoarse after the Fortescue kid and his firsty mates destroyed one of our backgrounds, causing Flitwick (who had graced us with one of his rare appearances) to throw down his clipboard and walk out dramatically while the rest of us looked on and snickered, and I'm pretty sure Sirius Black was high.

"Remind me what part Sirius got in the play again?" I asked, leaning over to Thaddeus Meyers and speaking out of the corner of my mouth, lest Lily saw and exploded again.

The huge Hufflepuff snorted, and I was glad he had started to consider me cool and not annoying, because I had really been afraid of the bloke for a long time. He could've easily smashed my face in or something.

"He didn't get a part," Thaddeus said drily. "Flitwick thought he was too unreliable, remember?"

I watched Sirius giggle his head off at James, who was up on our makeshift stage rehearsing one of his scenes, and I silently applauded the tiny Charms professor as Sirius choked on his laughter, earning him a sharp rebuke from Remus while Lily glared daggers at him.

"Oh, yeah." I frowned. "Wait, then why the hell is he here again?"

Thaddeus shrugged. "Fuck if I know."

I snorted. "Poor thing probably couldn't bear having all his friends here without him."

"You'd think being the drama queen he is he at least would've gotten a part," Thaddeus agreed with a grunt, and I struggled to hold back my laughter when I saw Lily's glare shoot in our direction.

"Thaddeus, you're up next," the redhaired witch ordered, pointing to the stage. "You have to get Egeus's lines down."

"The play's not for another two months," Thaddeus grumbled under his breath, but he trudged to the front of the room anyway after I gave him a sympathetic pat on the back.

James hopped down off the stage, dodging Sirius and, to my surprise, making a beeline towards me. I only raised a brow in question as he approached, and he gave me his signature arrogant smirk that I used to hate with every fiber of my being. Now, it was just kind of endearing – still annoying, but endearing.

"Pipes," he greeted. "Why are you standing in the corner all by your lonesome?"

"I'm cowering from Lily's wrath," I said, and he grimaced, nodding. "I'm surprised she didn't hex you off the stage or something."

"Ah, well." He grinned, a sudden gleam in his eye as he looked to me. "Let's just say things are making a bit of headway between us."

My eyes widened. "You're _kidding!_ I thought she hated you?"

"So did I," he admitted. "But I think I can safely say we are officially friends now."

I shook my head, unable to wrap my brain around the notion. Lily had hated James, even back in their second year, whenever I had hung out with the Marauders, but now it seemed the world was doing a complete one-eighty. It made me wonder what else I had missed out on by not being their friend, but I quickly shook that thought off; the past was the past, and I was friends with them now, right? That had to make up for some things.

"Good for you, James," I said sincerely. Lord knows all his pining had to pay off someday.

"And what about you?" he said, nudging my shoulder and winking when I gave him a confused frown. "Still got the hots for our dear Remus?"

My face immediately flared red, a dead giveaway despite the shocked, "No!" that came out of my mouth.

James chuckled, and I smacked his arm. "It's not funny, Potter! How can you even say that?"

"You stare at him a lot," he said, and my mortification mounted higher. Fuck. If _Potter_ had noticed, then who else had?!

"So?" I demanded angrily, dropping my voice to a harsh whisper and looking around to see if anyone was paying attention. Considering Lily was now squeaking/yelling at Sirius though, I doubted it. But still. "What does staring have to do with anything?"

He snorted. "Come off it, Pipes. You used to fancy him, right?"

Oh my God. How did he know these things?

"I was eleven," I grumbled. "Things are different now."

"Yeah," James agreed. "You can shag him now, for one."

"Fuck off, James!" I whisper-shouted. "Stay out of my life!"

"Chill out, Pipes, I'm just teasing. Sorta."

I resisted the urge to punch him. "I don't fancy Remus, okay?"

"But you'd still shag him?"

I socked him in the arm, hard, and he yelped. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"I told you to stay out of my life," I retorted. When he rubbed his arm, pouting, I sighed, rolling my eyes. "Fine, whatever. I still fancy him. Maybe. I don't know." I shook my head. "It's complicated."

His pout immediately brightened into a wide grin, and I knew I was going to regret admitting such a thing to him.

"Then what's holding you back?" he asked.

I actually laughed out loud at this. "You want a list?" When he only stared at me expectantly, waiting, I raised my hand and ticked off my fingers. "Firstly, I don't even know if the bloke fancies me back, or ever can, considering our fucked-up history. Secondly, I loathe commitment – there was a reason I was the school slag, and it wasn't because I ever dated anyone. Thirdly, he doesn't know about Aubrey, and all the resulting baggage from that that makes all this even harder, and lastly…" I trailed off, taking a deep breath. "He told me that you all were going to fight in the war after you were done with school this year."

I looked to James, seeing him frown slightly at my words, but he nodded nonetheless, confirming Remus's statement.

"We already have it planned out," he said. "We talked to Dumbledore about it at the end of last year, and he agreed we could join the Order of the Phoenix after we had graduated." I could tell he wasn't pleased with waiting, but he respected the headmaster enough to at least not go charging into battle right now, and for that I was grateful.

"I couldn't bear it," I said softly. "Being with him, and only able to watch from afar as he risked his life." My breath hitched in my throat, and my eyes began to burn with tears as I gave voice to the terrible thoughts aloud. "I don't want to lose him – I don't want to lose _any_ of you." I gestured around the room, encompassing the rest of the Marauders and Lily with the motion. "I just got you all back."

James looked stricken.

"Piper…" he said, his voice heavy, but I waved him off, blinking rapidly to banish the tears.

"Don't," I said. "Really, it's okay. That kind of shit is depressing, and that's the last thing we need right now."

He nodded slowly, still staring at me as if I had announced my own funeral, but luckily, I was saved from having to answer further, for it seemed that Lily had finally lost her cool and hexed Sirius after he had giggled at the word 'erection.'

Rehearsal was over after that.

* * *

"Well, today was exciting," I said to Remus, Vanishing away the makeshift stage with a small smile of pride.

Everyone had bolted pretty quickly after rehearsal was over, not wanting to stick around and potentially become Lily's next hexing victim. After James and Peter had dragged a boil-covered Sirius to the Hospital Wing, I had elected to stay behind and help Remus turn our rehearsal space back into a classroom, all out of the good of my heart, obviously. _Not_ because I wanted to be alone with him.

Damn, I needed to stop being so pathetic.

I couldn't help it though. My sodding, traitorous heart still had a thing for him, even years later, and my hormones were certainly not helping in the matter. And his arse in those jeans wasn't making my predicament better, either.

"That's one way of putting it," Remus snorted, moving the desks back to their original places and giving me one of his wry smiles where that dimple appeared in his left cheek. I looked away quickly, my nerves pinging around inside me. My conversation with James was still fresh in my mind, and I severely hoped he wouldn't go blabbing his mouth to Remus about it, though somehow, I doubted it. James Potter was a lot of things, but he was never disloyal.

Combined with the fact that Remus and I have been weirdly civil with each other the past two weeks, I was nervous as hell. I still hadn't told him about Aubrey, and he hadn't pressed me on the topic, thankfully, but I could tell he was still worried about it and wasn't as willing to ignore it like I was. It was causing a strange tension between us, and I hated it, but I still wasn't ready. Telling Lily, a virtual stranger, was something much different than telling Remus.

"I still think my Bat-Bogey from the beginning of term was better," I said, nodding in satisfaction at the room and stowing my wand away.

Remus shook his head, chuckling. "Nah, no amount of magic can top when you pulled his pants down in the courtyard third year."

I laughed, completely forgetting about the memory. That had been our peak hatred towards each other, when we had been willing to do anything to get back at each other. Our war had gotten so bad that even the other Houses were beginning to take sides. Most everyone had chosen the Marauders, naturally, but I still received some handshakes in the corridors sometimes from my former allies.

"That was beautiful," I agreed. "I hadn't known silk boxers were a thing until then."

We both laughed at that, and the sound echoed around the empty room before quickly dying out. I became acutely aware that this was the first time I had been alone with him since our last one-on-one rehearsal a fortnight ago, and I tucked a stray curl behind my ear nervously, biting my lip.

"Er, I should get back," I said, gesturing to the door. "Homework, and all that…"

I turned, about to flee from the room, before his hand grasped my elbow, and I faced him slowly, seeing the determination in his eyes and feeling my heart sink.

"Piper," he said, not letting go of my arm. "Please, just tell me what I did wrong."

I blinked. Well, that was unexpected.

"You didn't do anything wrong," I said, shaking my head. "It's just…something I have to figure out on my own. Seriously." I mustered a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it, all right? I'm fine."

His eyes searched my own, the pale green looking darker in the dim light, and I swallowed nervously when my gaze flitted to his lips briefly. I wondered what they would feel like, pressed up against mine, but I shied away from the thought. I wasn't sure how I would react to any form of intimacy right now. A part of me craved it, but another part recoiled, spitting venom at anyone who got too close. I was torn between closing that distance or running away, but it seemed logic had won this round, for I stepped away from him, pulling my arm gently from his grip.

"I don't want to lose you again, Piper," he said lowly. "Not when I just got you back."

His words echoed the ones I had said to James earlier, and before I could even register what was happening, I began to cry.

"Remus Lupin, you bloody idiot," I heard him mutter to himself, before conjuring a handkerchief and rushing over to me, pressing the cloth to my cheeks as I wailed like a little child.

He waited until I had calmed myself down enough to take the handkerchief from him and swipe under my eyes, knowing my makeup was smeared everywhere at this point. I knew I should've taken up Becca's offer to learn the charm that made it stay, but here I was, looking like some stoned raccoon.

"Sorry," I said, my voice still scratchy and thick. "That was lame."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "You're fine, Pipes. Believe me. We've all been there."

I gave him a watery smile, knowing he was right, but damn, was I sick of crying. It seemed like it was all I ever did anymore. It could be one of my new hobbies.

 _"Hello, I'm Piper Everlark, and I enjoy drinking firewhiskey straight from the bottle, ignoring my problems until they punch me in the face, and sobbing hysterically for no reason. I'm a real catch, I promise!"_

"Still," I insisted, even though I had no real argument. I twiddled with the handkerchief, wondering if it would be rude if I walked off without another word, but I froze when his fingertip touched my chin, lifting my face so I could look into his.

He had gotten a lot closer, but I attribute that to my episode, though that didn't stop me from feeling like every nerve in my body was now focused only on that fingertip.

"Are you okay?" he asked me seriously.

"Not at all," I said honestly, my voice cracking, and he looked pained.

"What can I do?" he said.

"Hold me."

The words were out of my mouth before I knew it, and we both looked shocked at my statement, before he nodded resolutely and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest.

I complied easily, feeling like putty in his arms as I hugged mine around his waist, breathing in the scents of mint and his cologne, and that same woodsy smell that he had always had, even when we were kids.

I don't know how long we stayed like that, clutching each other in the empty classroom as if we would shatter if we were to let go, but I didn't mind a bit. Remus was holding me, and for a moment, everything felt like it would be all right.

Eventually, we pulled away, but I was secretly pleased when he kept one hand on my back, though I tried not to let it show. Ruining the moment we just had with my embarrassing infatuation was not how I wanted this night to end.

"We should get going," I said, being the first to break the silence. "I know you're a prefect and all, but I'd still rather not get caught by Filch. I'd hate to have to flash him again."

He burst into laughter at this, and I grinned too, feeling loads better just from that small interaction with him. Remus Lupin was truly something special, I thought to myself, and I'd be damned if I ever ruined our friendship again.

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	14. Shit Happens When You're a Nosy Prat

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **I'm so sorry for not updating sooner, guys. This last semester was really hectic, and, truth be told, I had some trouble with this chapter, but luckily it's behind me now. There's not much Remus in this one, unfortunately, but I do have a cliffhanger ;)**

 **Thank you for all the new favorites/follows, and thanks a ton to my reviewers from last time: LaurenE16, feelthatfire, LoveFiction2017, untiltheangelssaveus, padfoot301, Ana (Guest), Carrie Bonesend (Guest), Bluebird (Guest), Avid Reader (Guest), and Ashley Marie (Guest)!**

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Chapter Fourteen: Shit Happens When You're a Nosy Prat

The first Hogsmeade trip of the year was taking place the weekend before Halloween, which sent the whole castle into an excited uproar when the notices appeared in all the House common rooms. Emmeline shoved her way toward me through the crowd of Gryffindors all clamoring around the board, a broad smile on her face.

"Hogsmeade, tomorrow!" she said. "This is great! We can buy Halloween decorations and put them up in our dorm, and Honeydukes is bound to have some great stuff put out. I'm so excited!"

"I can tell," I said amusedly, allowing myself to be dragged to the Great Hall for breakfast as Emmeline chatted away about what we should do.

The Hall was buzzing when we entered, students from every House already planning out their Hogsmeade weekend, collecting friends and speculating on dates. I wondered vaguely if Remus would be going on a date with someone before shaking my head; I'd never seen him go on a date with anyone before, but I put an end to the thought when I felt the ugly stirrings of jealousy in the pit of my stomach.

Sheesh, I needed to get over myself.

We joined the rest of our friends and the seventh-year Gryffindors for breakfast, which had become a new custom over the last few weeks. I took my place in between Emmeline and Remus, unconsciously tossing my hair over my shoulder before I realized how ridiculous I must look.

Fortunately, and unfortunately, however, Remus noticed.

"Morning, Pipes," he said, passing me my favorite chocolate cereal without hesitation, his eyes pausing on me in puzzlement. "Did you do something different with your hair?"

"No," I said nonchalantly, twirling a curl around my finger that I had definitely modified with some potions to make bouncier and shinier that morning. "Why?"

He looked me over appraisingly, and I bit my lip nervously before he shrugged and said, "I dunno. It just looks good."

"Thanks," I said, flashing him a quick grin and trying not to blush like I was some star-struck eleven-year-old again.

"Do you have any plans for Hogsmeade?" he asked, spooning a bite of porridge into his mouth and looking to me questioningly.

Ignoring the excited flutter of my heart, I shrugged casually and poured some milk into my cereal.

"Nothing too exciting," I said. "Probably just hanging around this lot."

I waved my spoon to indicate the girls and boys from my own year, and he nodded thoughtfully.

"Same here," he said, gesturing toward the Marauders and seventh-year girls. "We're likely to cross paths, though, so don't think you're free of us yet."

"Well, damn," I said sarcastically, snapping my fingers. "There go my hopes and dreams."

He chuckled, and I dug in to my cereal, missing the way his fingers twitched nervously on his spoon as he eyed me carefully.

"Speaking of Hogsmeade," he said slowly, and I turned to face him so fast a nerve in my neck pinched, causing me to slap a hand to the offended area and make a weird face. "Um, are you okay?"

"Fine," I managed, flapping my other hand for him to continue. If this was what I thought it was…

"Er, all right," he said, and I wondered if I was imagining the strain in his voice. "So, about Hogsmeade… I was wondering if you would like—"

"Oi, Moony! Pass the pumpkin juice!"

I whipped my head toward Sirius next, suddenly having a strong urge to throw the pitcher at his stupidly perfect face as he smiled knowingly at me and winked.

 _You're dead, Black,_ I mouthed to him as Remus passed the pitcher, and his grin grew wider.

 _Bite me,_ he replied, and I flipped him the bird – naturally, when McGonagall was walking right behind me.

"Miss Everlark!" she snapped. "I thought you knew better than to resort to crude gestures to get your point across! Five points from Gryffindor!"

And with that, she continued marching to the staff table, leaving me to glare at Sirius as he cracked up and snorted some of his juice.

 _Dead,_ I repeated, which only made him laugh harder.

 _Insufferable git,_ I thought.

"It's ten minutes to," Remus announced, checking his watch and standing from the bench. "We should get to lessons."

"Couldn't agree more, Remus," I said, getting to my feet with so much enthusiasm I accidentally elbowed him in the gut. "Oh, shit! Remus, I'm sorry…"

"No worries," he said, grimacing. "Sheesh, Pipes, your elbow is bony as hell."

"Sorry," I said again, inwardly cringing at myself. Who was I? I was turning into some bumbling schoolgirl with a mediocre crush! Where was bad ass Piper? The suave and seductive witch who could get any bloke she wanted? What have I become?

"Walk you to class?" he offered, and I nearly combusted on the spot.

 _Old Piper, you are welcome to come back at any time._

"Sure." I nodded, making to follow him out of the Hall, but was halted by Becca's voice.

"Piper!" she said, looking affronted. "You were supposed to help me with my Charms essay! It's due today!"

 _Fuck._ I had completely forgotten about agreeing to Becca's desperate plea of help the night before. Granted, she had asked me when I was already half-asleep, but I had hoped that was just a dream. Sadly, that was not the case.

"Er, she's right," I said apologetically to Remus. "Sorry; see you at lunch?"

He smiled graciously, and I felt myself relax. That was something I had always admired about Remus; he never demanded anyone's attention, and he was just so understanding. The bloke was so nice sometimes that I began to wonder how bad I must look next to him – probably like the Antichrist, but whatever.

"Later, Pipes," he said, walking out of the Hall and smiling at me.

I waved to his back like an idiot, before turning around and trudging back to the Gryffindor table, hoping I could get him alone again before the day was done.

* * *

The universe, it seemed, was not on my side at all.

I was constantly surrounded by people today; Dorcas, Emmeline, and Becca seemed intent to stick with me like glue, and Benjy, JJ, Alfie, and Dom took it upon themselves to form some sort of bodyguard rotation throughout the whole day. I didn't know if they were doing it on purpose, or if Merlin himself was having a great laugh at my expense, but their constant presence meant that I could never find a moment alone with Remus.

Lunch was a noisy affair; Peter and Sirius got into a belching contest, and picked Remus and I to be two of the judges (with Peter winning, surprisingly; the kid had some serious projection), and by the end of it, everyone had lost their appetites and gone to lessons early.

My only hope was after dinner, where I could possibly get him alone before going back to the common room. The whole thing was making me nervous; did he even want to go to Hogsmeade with me? Was he just trying to ask me something else? What if he didn't remember what he wanted to ask me? What if he changed his mind?

I was so anxious that I hardly touched my steak-and-kidney pie that night at dinner, instead poking at it half-heartedly and taking small sips of water, my eyes darting over to the boy sitting next to me the entire meal.

I was so intent in my staring that I didn't even notice someone tapping my shoulder until they cleared their throat quite loudly from behind me, and I turned to see Caradoc Dearborn, of all people, standing and waiting expectantly.

"Er, hey, Doc," I said hesitantly, recognizing him from the MAC; he was Oberon, after all, my counterpart in the play, and though I didn't know him all that well, I guess one could say that we were acquaintances. "D'you have a question about the play? Because Remus is right here, he probably knows more than me—"

I gestured to Remus, who was in deep discussion with Lily on his other side, but he wasn't paying attention, and Caradoc shook his head with a small smile.

"No, I don't have a question about the play," he said, giving me a small smirk, and suddenly I understood why he was a close second to Hogwarts' hottest bloke (behind Sirius, of course, but I would never tell the Marauder that – besides, he knew it anyway). "I actually have a question for you."

"For me?" I said blankly. "Er, yeah, shoot; what's up?"

"Would you like to come to Hogsmeade with me?"

I stared for a long moment, my mouth slightly agape. Caradoc Dearborn, the second most attractive bloke in the school, was asking _me_ to go on a date to Hogsmeade with him? Merlin must be pissing himself right about now.

My gaze shifted to Remus beside me, who was still talking avidly to Lily and seemingly unaware that I had just been asked out right in front of him. The notion made me frown, and a stab of annoyance went through me, but I turned back to Caradoc with my answer.

"You know, I'd love to," I said, raising my voice slightly while still trying not to sound like a total bitch. New leaf, remember? "But I already have plans with somebody else. Sorry, Doc."

He seemed flabbergasted for a moment, as if he had never been turned down on a date before, but instead he only gave me a charming smile.

"Of course," he said. "Understandable, really; I probably shouldn't have waited until the last moment, considering how popular you are."

"I'm not that popular, trust me," I muttered, shifting uncomfortably, but I flashed him an awkward grin. "Er, hope you have fun, though."

"You, too," he said. "I guess I'll see you next Wednesday for rehearsals. 'Night, Piper."

I waved before turning back to my pie, somehow feeling less hungry than before. I glanced to Remus again, but he still wasn't paying attention, and I sighed in frustration.

Universe – 1; Piper Everlark – 0.

* * *

I really shouldn't have gotten my hopes up on Remus asking me to Hogsmeade.

The morning of the trip dawned cloudy and overcast, the sky thick and dark with rain. I thought it suited my mood quite well, actually, and I got dressed in a huff, stewing in my thoughts.

I mean, how could I have been so stupid? Why would he want to ask _me?_ Sure, we were friends and all, but there was absolutely nothing there, besides the annoying one-sided attraction I had for him. I didn't even know where that attraction was coming from! He was cute as a kid, yeah, but now he was hotter than hell – it wasn't fair, dammit! Why couldn't he just look average, like Peter or something?

Okay, maybe that was a bit of a stretch – I often thought Peter looked more like a cross between a rat and a flobberworm these days, but my point still stands.

"Uh oh," Dorcas said, staring at me with raised brows. "You have the sexy sweater on."

I looked down and realized with some mild horror that she was right; the "sexy sweater," as it had been dubbed last year, was a red shirt that fit like a glove and (if I may brag a bit) showed off my cleavage quite nicely.

Now Becca and Emmeline were both staring.

"But you never wear that sweater," Emmeline said, frowning.

"Not unless you're trying to seduce some poor sap." Becca cocked a pierced brow, goading me into speech, and I threw my hands up in exasperation.

"I'm not trying to seduce anyone! I just grabbed the first thing out of my trunk."

Dorcas marched over to me and pulled my shirt away from my chest, her mouth dropping open when she looked down it.

"And you're wearing your date bra!" She pointed to me accusingly. "Who are you going to Hogsmeade with?"

"No one," I said, hugging my arms protectively over my chest in case anyone else tried to gawk at my boobs. "Why does it even matter what I'm wearing?"

"Because you're Piper the Viper, Buxom Beauty, Heartbreaker of Hogwarts!" Becca cried. "You're trying to impress someone!"

"Can't I just look good for myself?" I said, glowering at all of them and wishing they hadn't noticed my outfit. I was going to be wearing a coat over it, anyway, for God's sake!

"Are you, though?" Emmeline asked. She was watching me with those piercing eyes of hers, the ones that never missed anything and were far too shrewd for her own good.

 _"Yes,_ Em," I said, rolling my eyes. "Now, can we please go? I'd rather not deal with the crowds today."

The three girls shared a high-browed glance as I marched out of the room, yet I could hear them following behind me as I led the way to the courtyard.

I came down the girls' staircase just as Remus and the rest of the Marauders emerged from the boys', and my irritation flared when Remus gave me a friendly smile.

"Hey, Pipes," he said, his smile faltering a bit when he caught my glare.

I stalked past him without saying a word, annoyance and hurt battling within me. How could I have been so stupid, thinking he would ask me to Hogsmeade? Bloody git. I turned down a date with Caradoc Dearborn for him!

"Don't mind her," I heard Dorcas say behind me. "She's, er, having a bad hair day."

I rolled my eyes. They were all bloody gits, and I frankly didn't care if I was having a temper tantrum. I just needed to be alone for a while, until I had time to cool off and become rational again. It wouldn't take me long.

Hopefully.

"Whimblesby!" Filch growled when I entered the courtyard to get my name checked off on the list. His sunken eye twitched at my presence, and his face got pale, which I normally would've found hilarious, but I couldn't find the humor in it right now. "Any funny business today, and I'll have you thrown out of this school faster than you can blink, brat!"

"Fascinating," I said flatly. "I'll make sure not to blink, then."

He seemed stumped by my comment, and I took the opportunity to dodge him, not in the mood for him to harass me about my name not being on the list, since it was, after all, entirely fictional.

I made my way into the tiny wizarding village alone, the brisk coldness of the air invigorating me some as I followed the familiar path. By the time I got to Hogsmeade, my fingers were numb, and my cheeks stung, and I headed into the first place I saw to warm me up, which happened to be The Three Broomsticks.

It wasn't as packed as usual, but I was earlier than most of the crowd. I could only see a few students sitting in booths together; the rest of the patrons were older witches and wizards, either those who inhabited the area, or those passing through on errands. I made my way to the bar, where most of the empty seats were, and plopped myself down on an old stool with a sigh.

"Tough day, love?"

Madam Rosmerta had come over, flicking her wand to dry out a copper mug with a rag as she raised a dark brow at me. She wasn't that much older than me, having graduated only a few years before, but that was before my reputation had gotten around, so I didn't expect her to remember me. Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure she had a reputation similar to mine – or maybe that was Bellatrix Black. Fuck, I hope not.

"It's barely began, and I already want it to be over," I said, smiling ruefully, and she nodded in understanding. She flicked her wand again, and a mug of butterbeer slid into place near my elbow.

"First one's on the house," she said, winking, and raised the mug she had been cleaning. "To long days."

"Cheers," I said, drinking deeply and letting the frothy liquid warm my fingertips. She moved off to help another customer, leaving me alone with my thoughts as I drank. Already, the guilt of how I had acted earlier was starting to creep in, but I tried to keep it at bay for as long as possible. Suffice to say, I was rotten at dealing with my problems.

I finished my butterbeer and set my mug down, looking around for Rosmerta for a refill. The barmaid had disappeared, probably to fetch something from the back, and I sighed, my eyes settling on another pair staring back at me from the other side of the bar.

I started, my eyes widening some when I saw who was looking at me. He couldn't have been more than a few years older than me, but he was strikingly handsome – oh, who am I kidding, this bloke was bloody _beautiful._ Hotter than Sirius Black and Caradoc Dearborn _combined._ Wavy black hair, dark eyes, chiseled features like they were carved from marble – _holy shit._ And he was _staring at me._

Trying to keep my cool, I merely arched a brow at him, a silent question: _Can I help you?_

He smirked, and a dimple appeared in his right cheek. _Sweet Merlin._ He pointed a finger to the empty seat next to me, asking a question of his own: _That seat taken?_

I shrugged casually, pulling on a curl and averting my eyes. If he was smart, he would come over anyway, and I hid my smile as the stool next to me scraped on the floor, the man settling in with a grunt.

"I hope you don't mind," he said, and his voice was almost better than his looks: smooth like ice, but sweet like honey. "I couldn't help but to notice you when you walked in."

"Oh?" I said in a bored tone. _That's right, Piper, do your thing._ "And why's that?"

He smirked again, and my body began to tingle with a different sort of heat that was much different than the effects of the butterbeer.

"Well, I don't know if you've noticed, love, but you're the prettiest witch in this place," he said, and though internally I was screaming, outwardly I just smiled blandly.

"Is that so?"

He tilted his head, raking me over with those dark eyes of his.

"I think you know so," he said, and I actually smiled, because he was right. (What? I knew I looked good today, okay?).

I only hummed in response, catching a drop of condensation that rolled down my mug as he drank next to me.

"So, are you going to tell me your name, love, or are you just going to remain a mystery?" he said once he had swallowed his drink, and I looked to him with a mischievous smirk.

"As much as I love mystery, I'll take pity on you," I said, and he chuckled. "I'm Piper."

I held out my hand, and he took it, the skin of his dragonhide gloves pressing into my palm. I tried not to react as I caught a glimpse of his gloves, but I knew instantly from the richness of the material that he was loaded. I mean, I had dragonhide gloves, but those were for school, and they had been bought secondhand. This bloke probably never had to buy anything secondhand.

"Rabastan," he said, smiling, and my own faltered a bit at the name. Rabastan. Hadn't I heard that somewhere before? Why did it sound so familiar?

"Did you go to Hogwarts?" I asked, and he nodded.

"Indeed. I graduated several years ago, though."

He didn't elaborate, and I nodded slowly, still trying to place his name and face.

"Well, what brings you to Hogsmeade?"

He shrugged, taking another sip from his drink.

"Business." He turned and raised an eyebrow at me. "You?"

I suddenly hesitated, not wanting to tell him I was still a student. I mean, I'd be seventeen in February, but how weird would it be if I told him I was still in my sixth year?

So, I only winked and said, "Pleasure."

He chuckled, his laugh low and throaty, sending pleasant chills down my spine.

"Well, Piper, I hope your visit is pleasurable," he said, dropping a few Knuts and Sickles on the bar as he stood, and I tried to hide my disappointment that he was leaving so suddenly. He smirked at me again, and I honestly felt my knees weaken. "Mine certainly was."

"Maybe if you're lucky you'll see me again, Rabastan," I said, smiling coyly, and his eyes glanced over me appreciatively.

"That I do hope," he purred, raising my hand to his lips and kissing it softly. "Until next time, Piper."

And with that, he departed the bar, leaving me staring after him like a drooling dog.

The whole conversation with Rabastan had completely taken me out of my bad mood, and I leapt from my seat, suddenly itching to find Dorcas and the others and tell them about the sexy, dark stranger I had met at the bar. It was so cliché, and the looks on their faces would be priceless.

I pushed my way out of The Three Broomsticks and back onto the now-bustling high street of Hogsmeade, beginning to trek up the road to see if I could find any of my friends. My eyes locked on a head of black curls, and I frowned, recognizing Archie's mop of hair as he made his way up the street, walking briskly with someone beside him. I thought it was Sirius for a wild second; the silky dark hair was the same, after all, but my eyes narrowed when I realized that it wasn't the older Black, but the younger.

Sighing, I followed them, planning on wringing Archie's scrawny little neck. I had _told_ him to stay away from Regulus Black, and now here he was, prancing around Hogsmeade with him, the little ponce. Regulus Black was nothing but bad news, and if Archie thought he could get away with hanging around the slimy git, then he was _sorely_ mistaken.

The two boys ducked into an alleyway behind the Hog's Head, and I paused in my pursuit, frowning. What the hell were they doing there? The Hog's Head was like the sadder, sketchier version of The Three Broomsticks, and students usually steered clear of it like the plague. Then what were they doing?

Deciding there was only one way to find out, I crept down the alleyway after them, ducking down behind some crates where I could hide while still keeping them in view.

In hindsight, following them was not one of my better ideas. After all, shit happens when you're a nosy prat, and I happened to be the nosiest prat in the world. Still, it had been a really fucking stupid idea on my part, and actions always have consequences.

"Archie, I'd like you to meet someone," Regulus was saying in his flat, cold voice. "Archie, Rabastan – Rabastan, Archie."

My mouth dropped open when I saw Rabastan emerge from the shadows, the same Rabastan I had flirted with in The Three Broomsticks not even ten minutes ago. What the hell was _he_ doing here?

I watched Archie and Rabastan shake hands, a creeping sense of unease beginning to tingle my spine.

"So, this is the Mudblood who wants to join the cause?" Rabastan said, looking to Regulus for confirmation, and the younger Black nodded.

"Don't call me that," Archie snapped, and Rabastan looked back to him in amusement.

"Apologies," he said, not sounding very sorry at all, and I shivered at how different his voice had become; cold, flat, emotionless. "We Lestranges typically have very few dealings with _Muggle-borns."_

I clapped a hand over my mouth as a gasp escaped me, but luckily, none of them seemed to have heard me.

No wonder why Rabastan's name had been so familiar – he was Rabastan Lestrange, brother of Rodolphus Lestrange, who, last I heard, had married Bellatrix Black. He was a Slytherin through-and-through, and my unease grew as they continued to talk.

"Well?" Regulus said. "What do you think?"

"I _think_ he's a fool," Rabastan said, and that was one thing I could agree with him on. Archie bristled at the man's comment, but Rabastan went on. "What use would the Dark Lord have of a _Muggle-born?"_

"Anything," Archie said. "I could be a-a spy, or something—"

Rabastan laughed, and my blood ran cold. Archie was trying to join up with the Death Eaters, I realized with a sickening feeling in my stomach, and Rabastan was one of them.

"The Dark Lord does not require your services, Mudblood," Rabastan said. "Now, run along with your new little boyfriend before I show you what the Death Eaters do to scum like you."

"He's not my boyfriend," Regulus said quickly. "C'mon, Rab; you've known me all your life. Would I ever bring you someone who I thought would be useless? Archie has skills we could all use in the future."

"What, like sucking our cocks?" Rabastan said nastily. "You're pathetic, Reg; both of you walk away, or else I'll tell your dear mother what kind of filth you've been hanging around with lately. Now, go."

There was a tense moment of silence before Regulus sighed, grabbing Archie's shoulder and dragging him back. "Let's go, Archie."

The two boys stalked out of the alleyway, and I pressed close to the wall behind me, trying to stay out of sight. My heart was in my throat, my stomach churning after all I'd heard, but I would deal with my brother and that snake later. Right now, I had other concerns.

Drawing my wand, I stepped out from behind the crates and faced Rabastan Lestrange, my anger seeming to blur him at the edges a bit. He didn't seem surprised to see me, only smirking.

"Dashing to see you again, my lovely Piper," he said. "Did you enjoy eavesdropping on our little conversation?"

"Stay the hell away from my brother," I snarled, pointing my wand at him, and he sneered.

"Your brother was the one who wanted to meet with a Death Eater," he said. "Your anger is misplaced, love. I was just following orders."

"Go," I said. "Go back to your precious _Dark Lord_ before I send word to the Ministry and let them know what you are."

"You _dare_ threaten me, Mudblood?" he hissed, his eyes flashing. "Yes, I know you're the sister of that insufferable brat," he said to my startled look. "I should've made you get on your knees like the filth you are and shove my cock down your throat—"

"Lovely image, but no thanks," I said, my wand hand beginning to shake. _"Go."_

"Very well," he said, a predatory smile stretching his mouth grotesquely as he stared at me. "But I'd tread carefully if I were you, Piper Everlark. You Mudbloods aren't as safe as you think you are, especially at Hogwarts."

He made to leave, before turning back to me with a hungry gleam in his eyes.

"One last thing," he said, before pointing his wand at me and shouting, _"Petrificus Totalus!"_

I went down like a board, having no time to react and throw up a shield, my limbs locking and my jaw cementing together as I landed on my back, staring up at the sliver of sky above me.

Rabastan stood over me, a sneer marring his handsome features as he nudged my stiff body with his foot.

"Let's leave a little message for Dumbledore, shall we?" he said, raising his wand, and if I had any use of my mouth at all, I would've used every curse possible on him. "Nothing to ruin that pretty face of yours, or this wonderful body…" He knelt down and ran a hand along the side of my body, his fingers brushing the underside of my breast and making my skin crawl. I was back in the library, saw the table, saw Aubrey…

I wrenched myself out of the flashback, not having time to focus on such things. Rabastan tapped his wand on his chin, pondering, before his face lit up with an idea.

"Yes…" he murmured. "I think this would send a message quite well…"

My fear spiked as he pointed his wand to me, and said, almost lazily, _"Crucio."_

And I felt myself break.

* * *

 **Please review! I'd love to know your thoughts!**

 **xx**


	15. Aftermath

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **I figured I should make it up to you guys after that last cliffhanger, so here is an extra long chapter with plenty of Remus to hopefully win back your affections.**

 **Thank you for all the new favorites/follows, and thanks to my reviewers from last time!**

* * *

Chapter Fifteen: Aftermath

Cold.

That was the first sensation I was aware of, the first thing I could feel in…minutes? Hours? Days? The first thing I could remember other than that terrible, terrible pain. There had been a numbness there, somewhere. After the pain. A numbness that had fused my bones together and frozen my muscles and kept me immobile for an incalculable amount of time. But now there was only cold.

I hoped it was the same day. As more time passed, my brain began to work again – slowly, achingly, but still functionally. I recalled that it had been light when I had gone into the alley, but now it was dark. Lamps had flickered on along the main street. I could see the dull glow of their golden light penetrating the dimness of the alley I was lying in, but there wasn't a soul in sight.

Rabastan Lestrange had gone. I guess he had grown tired of torturing me, something I was both relieved and sickened by. No one had been able to find me if I was still lying here, if they had even bothered to look at all. But why should they have? I had been nothing short of horrible to everyone before I took off for Hogsmeade. They probably thought I was still having one of my moods. No one would have heard me scream, either, because I hadn't. I could vaguely remember Rabastan Silencing me after every cast of the curse, staring at me maliciously each time my mouth had opened in a silent scream, pain lancing through my body until my muscles shook and my vision turned black, but always he would pull me away from the void just before I fell into it.

"Some people enjoy the screams," his voice echoed back to me, "but it's the eyes that hold the most pain. Almost like a song waiting to be sung. _Crucio!"_ Blinding pain. A flick of his wand that Silenced me. "Sing for me with those pretty eyes of yours, my little lark. _Sing."_

Tears pricked my eyes as I wrenched myself back to the present, hot tears that were so at odds with the coldness in my body. They were the first tears I had allowed myself to shed since being tortured. Undoubtedly, I had cried during the whole thing, but I couldn't remember it. I didn't _want_ to remember it.

I struggled to shift myself into a sitting position on the ground, but every movement sent my body into painful convulsions that wracked my entire frame, making my muscles cramp and tremble violently.

"Help," I tried to shout, but my voice was so hoarse and weak that it came out as a whisper. "Please, help."

If I could just make it to the street, someone would see me and get help. But my body refused to move, and the sky was growing ever darker. Soon, there wouldn't even be anybody around to help me.

I must have passed out again, for the next thing I knew, I was being carried in someone's arms, and there was a roof above my head where once there had been sky.

I tried to protest feebly, but the person shushed me, a gruff, unfamiliar voice saying, "Easy there, lass. Yer all right now."

My bleary eyes tried to focus on the person's face, but all I could see was a dirty white beard and two piercing blue eyes. I felt a sense of recognition at the blurry sight of those eyes, but before I cold take in any more details, the man – that much I had deciphered – had set me down gently on a creaky bed and departed the room.

I looked around, attempting to gather my surroundings, my head lolling like a rag doll whenever I tried to turn it. I was in a small and shabby bedroom, lying on the only bed that smelled like straw, sweat, brandy, and goat, which I thought to be an incredibly weird combination. A fire was crackling merrily behind the grate of the fireplace, with several pairs of dirty, worn socks hanging to dry above it. A chipped and broken wardrobe stood off to one side, and there was a battered chair propped next to the bed, beneath the grimy glass of a small window covered with moth-eaten curtains. The only hint of a personal touch in the room was a portrait hanging along one wall of a young girl with blonde hair and a sweet face, who was smiling at me serenely. At the portrait's stare, however, I turned away quickly.

The man reappeared a few minutes later, a damp cloth in one hand and a bottle of firewhiskey in the other. He looked even dirtier now that my gaze was more focused, wearing a set of patched and frayed robes with a grubby apron tied around his waist. When he caught me staring, he scowled.

"Here," he said, helping me sit up in the bed and adjusting the pillows behind my back to prop me up. Though I could feel my normal motor control coming back to me, I still shook every now and then, and my hands still had tremors going through them. He placed the cloth on my forehead before unscrewing the cap on the bottle and handing it to me.

"The drink helps," he said to my incredulous look, taking a seat on the chair next to the bed. "Trust me."

Something about the way he was gazing at me told me he already knew what I had gone through, and with some difficulty, I raised the bottle to my lips, letting the searing liquid slide down my throat. Another shudder rattled my bones, but the firewhiskey helped, dissipating the last of the chill clinging to me and seeming to relax my stiff muscles.

"There we go," the man said when I took another gulp, and I shuddered again, though this time it was weaker. He took the bottle back from me after I had downed another shot, snorting at my affronted expression. "I'm trying to make yeh feel better, lass, not get yeh drunk." He shook his head, scowling again. "Albus would have my arse if I brought yeh back to the castle sloshed."

"You're taking me back to Hogwarts?" My voice sounded like a cat had used it as a scratching post, but at least I was coherent. The man nodded.

"Aye, 's the safest place for yeh right now," he said, taking a gulp of the firewhiskey. He didn't even flinch, and my respect for him only grew. "The Ministry's no use these days, and St Mungo's would keep yeh locked up fer weeks out o' precaution. Least at Hogwarts yeh'll be out of danger."

"But what about…the man who did this to me?" I asked, my courage faltering at the reminder of Rabastan Lestrange. "Shouldn't he be punished?"

The man's face darkened. "Aye, he should. But Dumbledore has contacts in the Ministry that are trustworthy. I'm sure he'll want yeh to speak with them in the coming days."

"I don't want to," I said quietly. Even thinking about Rabastan Lestrange's face was enough to make my skin crawl, but having to give a statement and relive the whole thing…

"It's the only way to catch the bastard who did it," he said. "Yeh remember who did it, aye?"

"Aye – I mean, yes," I said, wondering if my brain had been permanently fried from my torture. My hands fisted in the blanket beneath me. "I hope he rots."

"He will," the man said grimly, and I got the feeling that he meant it.

"Who are you?" I said.

He stood from his chair with a grunt, sealing the firewhiskey before saying, "Aberforth."

I gazed curiously at the man. "Do you live in Hogsmeade? I've never seen you before."

"Wouldn've expected yeh to," he said, and then elaborated at my prodding glance. "I'm the owner o' the Hog's Head – 's where yeh are now."

The answer brought me a lot of clarity, and only a little bit of wariness. The Hog's Head was the seedier, grimier version of The Three Broomsticks, and though students weren't technically forbidden from going inside it, most chose not to – if they did, then they were advised to bring their own cup, and I could understand why just by looking at Aberforth and the bedroom I was in. But he didn't seem sinister or unkind, despite being the owner of such a disreputable place. After all, he had helped me, and that was something I would be indebted to him for, for the rest of my life.

"Can yeh walk?" he asked me when I was taking too long to respond, and I nodded nervously. The firewhiskey had done me wonders, but I was still uncertain as to how my body was going to handle moving about again.

Deciding there was only one way to find out, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, placing my feet gingerly on the filthy floor. Sharp aches and pains flashed through me as I pushed myself to my feet slowly, but I kept my teeth gritted and breathed through them tightly, managing to stand. I swayed slightly but waved off Aberforth when he moved forward to help me.

"I got it," I said. I told myself to put one foot in front of the other, and when I had managed a few shaky steps, he gave me an approving nod.

"Let's get yeh up to the castle," he said. "Yeh'll prob'ly have to stay the night at the Hospital Wing, but yeh'll be all right." He gave me a crooked grin from behind his shaggy beard. "Yer a tough one, lass."

"Piper," I said, flashing him a weak but grateful smile. "Piper Everlark."

He nodded to me before pulling two wands out of his apron, and I recognized my own as he handed it back to me. "Found it next to yeh. I'm assuming it's yers."

I took the wand almost greedily, relief coursing through me at the feel of the familiar wood, and I vowed to myself then that I would never take it for granted again, and that next time – because there would be a next time, I realized with grim certainty; I was a Muggle-born, and I knew that I had made an enemy out of Rabastan Lestrange that day – I wouldn't be caught unprepared again. Rabastan Lestrange may have tortured me, but he had not broken me, and now he was number one on my shit list.

Aberforth waved his own wand, face pulled into a concentrated expression as he muttered, _"Expecto Patronum."_

A silver, horned creature that looked suspiciously like a goat burst from his wand, its light filling the room and seeming to make everything brighter – but not just in an illuminating sense. Seeing the Patronus filled me with a sense of peace and serenity and a bubbling sort of happiness, like hope, and I stared at it in fascination as Aberforth spoke to it.

"Escorting Piper Everlark back to Hogwarts Castle. Meet at the front gates in twenty minutes. Bring nurse. Must speak afterwards."

He flicked his wand, and the goat bounded from the room, presumably to Hogwarts and the Headmaster. I was still staring in awe, and he raised a scraggly brow at my expression.

"Yeh've never seen a Patronus before, have yeh?" he asked, and I shook my head.

"No, but I read all about them when I was younger," I said, my face flushing at the admission. Remus had been the one to tell me about the Patronus Charm when we were kids, and I had been so fascinated that I'd studied everything I could about them for weeks. I always used to wonder what my own Patronus would be, but after my fallout with the Marauders and my rise to popularity, I'd never given it another thought. Now, however, I couldn't stop myself from wondering what would happen if I tried to give it a shot.

Aberforth studied me for a long moment before saying, "I could teach yeh one o' these days, if yeh'd like."

My eyes widened immediately. "You'd do that?"

H shrugged, suddenly looking very awkward. "I don' get to do much these days. Any Hogsmeade weekend, feel free to drop in. Just send an owl a few days before, so I know when yeh'll be coming."

If my body didn't ache so much I probably would've groveled at his feet right then and there. Already, my encounter with Rabastan Lestrange seemed so distant, but I knew that I would have to train if I ever were to face him again, and hope reignited within my chest when I saw how serious Aberforth was being.

"Wicked," was my only reply, and I beamed at him.

"C'mon, then," he said gruffly, turning away, and I wondered if I had imagined his cheeks flaring red. "Let's get yeh back."

I was able to walk on my own for the most part, but Aberforth had to help me down the stairs when my knees nearly gave out beneath me. Normally I would've punched someone in the face for treating me like such a breakable object, but Aberforth said nothing, only stepping in when I really needed him to, which made the mortification more tolerable.

The bar was empty when we passed through, thank God, but there were still a few witches and wizards milling about as we started down the main street at a painstakingly slow pace, due to me. I caught myself staring hard at everyone we passed, wondering if their face would be the one of Rabastan Lestrange. A coiled ball of anger and vengeance weighed heavily in my chest, reminding me of the not-so-great attributes that had nearly placed me in Slytherin before I had chosen Gryffindor. I could still remember the Sorting Hat crooning in my ear, telling me how well I would do in the House of cunning and ambition, but I wanted to be bold and brave, I had told it stubbornly. In the end, the Hat had agreed that I was far too brash to be a snake, and to Gryffindor I had gone. Still, sometimes I pondered about what I could have been like had I chosen Slytherin instead.

Then I realized I probably would've ended up being a bigger bitch than I already was, and suddenly I was grateful to be a lion.

The walk back to the castle was sluggish and painful. By the time we had reached the gates I was clinging on to Aberforth for support while he held me upright with one arm, the other holding his illuminated wand aloft for light on the dark path.

When we had arrived at the gates, I was about ready to collapse and sleep for the next century, but the bright light of several lit wands forced my eyes to stay open as three figures rushed out of the darkness, the gates swinging open before them.

"Aberforth, thank goodness you found her!"

My mouth nearly dropped open when I saw Professor McGonagall bustling towards me, her typically stern face drawn and full of concern. She was quickly followed by Madam Pomfrey, the matron of the Hospital Wing, and Dumbledore himself.

"Miss Everlark, what happened?" McGonagall demanded, stopping just before us and looking between me and Aberforth.

I was so out of breath at this point that I flapped my hand toward Aberforth, letting him explain, since he knew the gist of it already.

"Cruciatus," he said bluntly, and Madam Pomfrey gasped. Professor McGonagall's face drained of color, but Professor Dumbledore merely stared at us, his expression unreadable. "I helped her best as I could, but she'll need some potions and rest."

"Of course," Madam Pomfrey said, and the young matron conjured a stretcher that I made a face at.

"Is that really necessary?" I protested weakly, but apparently no one cared what I thought, for Aberforth and Madam Pomfrey assisted in lifting me onto the stretcher.

"Poppy, I believe Miss Everlark will be best placed in your hands," Professor Dumbledore said quietly, before turning to the other two. "Aberforth, Minerva, if we may speak privately in my office?" Professor McGonagall looked hesitant, but the Headmaster reassured her, gently yet firmly, "There will be time for questions in the morning. For now, let us leave Miss Everlark to rest and recover."

The Headmaster turned to look at me then, and I was struck by the familiar blue of his eyes. Before I could even puzzle over why I recognized them, however, unconsciousness had grabbed hold of me again, and the world went dark.

* * *

"Moony, if you don't stop pacing, I _will_ cut your legs off."

Sirius rolled his eyes when Remus flipped him off, continuing to wear a hole in the carpet of the Gryffindor Common Room where he was striding back and forth anxiously, his fingers tapping against his legs rapidly.

"It's been _hours,"_ Remus said, casting a look to the sunset staining the panes of the tower windows red. "No one's seen her since this morning."

"Dorcas said she was probably off having one of her moods," James said from his place on the floor, where he and Peter were having a game of wizard's chess. "Or who knows? Caradoc Dearborn asked her to Hogsmeade; she might have changed her mind and gone with him."

This pulled Remus up short, and he stared at James, an ugly feeling twisting his insides. "What?"

James cursed when one of Peter's knights began pummeling his own, but he looked back to Remus when he felt the other boy's eyes boring into him intently.

"You didn't know he had asked her?" James said incredulously, and Remus shook his head slowly. "Mate, she was sitting right next to you!"

"Lily was stressing about the play," he said defensively. "I was trying to calm her down."

James sniffed. "That should be my job, not yours."

Remus rolled his eyes. "You're impossible."

"If you're so worried about our lovely little Piper, then check the map," Sirius suggested, sprawling out on his armchair and causing several people in the vicinity to eye him appreciatively and sigh.

"I already did," Remus said. "She wasn't on there."

"Then she's probably still in Hogsmeade," Sirius said, shrugging. "No big deal."

Remus didn't reply to that, only running a hand through his hair in frustration. Maybe Sirius and James were right; she could just still be in Hogsmeade, either with her friends or…Caradoc Dearborn. His fists tightened at the thought of Piper on the arm of such a smarmy git, before he caught himself and frowned, wondering where that thought had come from. He had never had a problem with Caradoc Dearborn – then why was he so angry at the thought of him being with Piper?

 _Because he's a slag,_ Remus thought. _Dearborn goes through girls quicker than Sirius does. I just don't want her to get hurt._

That was a reasonable thought, and Remus settled with it, pushing the stirrings of jealousy to the back of his mind. He sank down into an armchair, pulling out the Marauder's Map from his jumper pocket and jabbing it with his wand, muttering, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

Instantly the map came alive with ink tracings and dozens of pattering footsteps and moving names. His eyes roved over each one, looking for Piper Everlark, but it was nowhere to be found. He unfolded a piece of the parchment and scanned Ravenclaw Tower, his frown deepening when he saw Caradoc Dearborn's footsteps walking around there. So, she wasn't with Dearborn – then where the bloody hell was she?

"Why are you so concerned, anyway, Moony?" Peter said, his gaze focused on the game. "I thought we vowed to destroy Pimply's life for good?"

"Don't call her that," Remus snapped. All three boys turned to stare at him in varying levels of shock, and he felt his neck flush awkwardly. "Er, we made a truce with her, remember?"

Peter snorted. "She's a bitch. Why would we be friends with her again?"

"Says the kid who got a hard-on whenever he saw how big her boobs had gotten in fourth year," Sirius snorted, and Peter blushed furiously.

"That was one time!" he protested angrily. "'S not my fault the bitch has knockers the size of melons!"

"Pete," James said warningly when he caught the murderous look on Remus's face, "drop it with the B-word. Piper's our friend now, whether you like it or not."

The chubby boy mumbled something along the lines of, "I don't," but at James's command, he fell silent.

At that moment, the portrait hole swung open, allowing Dorcas Meadowes, Becca Crouch, and Emmeline Vance into the common room, the three girls huddled together and talking in low whispers. At the sight of Piper's dormmates, Remus practically vaulted over the back of the armchair, stowing away the map and clearing his throat to get their attention.

"Hullo," he said as casually as he could. "Do you know where Piper is?"

The girls exchanged an indecipherable glance, before Dorcas turned to him with furrowed brows. "Is she not in our dorm?"

Realizing they didn't know about the map, Remus shrugged and said, "Er, I never saw her come in. I dunno if she's here."

"I'll go check," Emmeline said, giving him a kind smile before darting up the girls' staircase.

Dorcas turned back to him, looking troubled.

"To be honest, Lupin, we haven't seen her all day," she said. "We looked for her everywhere in Hogsmeade, but we couldn't find her."

"It isn't like her," Becca added, her anxious expression at odds with her scary, dark makeup and piercings. "She usually sulks for a while, but she always comes back a few hours later with a new attitude. She's never disappeared for this long before."

"Why do you want to know where she is?" Dorcas asked him, giving him a look that he didn't understand, like he had done something wrong.

"I had a…question…about the play," he said haltingly, cringing when both girls raised their brows at him in disbelief.

"Don't play dumb with us, Lupin," Becca said, rolling her eyes.

Remus stared at her. "What do you mean?"

"She means that you're obvious," said Dorcas bluntly. "Everyone in this bloody school can see that you worship the very ground Piper walks on."

"I don't—" he protested, but Becca talked over him.

"Just suck it up and ask her out, Lupin," she said. "Piper may not be as obvious as you, but the girl's panties nearly hit the floor every time you even enter the same room as her."

Remus had efficiently been reduced to a red, stuttering mess at that point, and he didn't think he'd ever been so grateful to see Emmeline bounding down the staircase and unknowingly saving him from her friends' interrogation.

"She's not up there," she said, looking worried. "We were supposed to be back at the castle an hour ago. You don't think she's still in Hogsmeade, do you?"

"Piper's a big girl, she can handle herself, Em," Dorcas said, though she looked uneasy all the same. "I'm sure she'll be back soon, and probably with another month's worth of detentions under her belt." She turned back to Lupin, meeting his eyes levelly, for they were roughly the same height – which was a feat in itself, as he was a fairly tall bloke. He felt guilty when he recalled how her height and bronze skin had earned her the nickname of Amazon in their youth, but she still looked every bit a warrior when she stared him down. "If you see her, let us know, and we'll do the same."

"Thank you," he said, nodding to them, and the three girls moved up the staircase, leaving Remus to flop back down in his armchair and prod at the map once more.

Hours passed, and there was still no sign of Piper anywhere. Every time the portrait hole opened he looked for a head of bouncing black curls or striking blue eyes, but it never came. He didn't understand why he was so anxious to see her, but the way she had glared at him that morning, as if they were enemies again, had tightened a knot in his belly that had yet to be loosened.

The other Marauders attempted to distract him with games and even homework, but Remus wasn't in the mood. After several more futile tries, they eventually gave up and left him to retreat to their dormitory. The common room began to empty as the sun set and night crept in, but Remus remained where he was, occasionally tapping and muttering at the map.

Somewhere, in the bowels of the castle, a distant bell chimed, doling out the time for midnight. Remus was just about to call it a night, figuring he had done enough stalking for one day, when a name suddenly appeared on the map that made his heart drop.

Piper Everlark was floating somewhere along the grounds, accompanied by a name he had never seen before: Aberforth Dumbledore. He watched, confused, as the two names met with three others, belonging to Minerva McGonagall, Poppy Pomfrey, and lastly, Albus Dumbledore. Remus was thrown for a minute by the sight of the two Dumbledores, but he followed the names as Piper and Pomfrey began moving again, back to the castle, with the two Dumbledores and McGonagall following behind shortly after.

The names branched off once they were inside the castle, with the two Dumbledores and Professor McGonagall retreating to the Headmaster's office, while Madam Pomfrey and Piper made for the Hospital Wing. Remus's heart crawled back up into his throat as he saw their names enter, and he leapt to his feet immediately, shoving the map back in his pocket.

He made for the portrait hole, not even bothering to wake James to get the Invisibility Cloak. He had the map, and he knew the secret ways to get around without being detected, so he set off briskly in the direction of the Hospital Wing.

The castle was dark and quiet, but Remus wasn't fooled. Already he could feel the stares of the portraits following him and the whispers that started up when he had turned a corner, and he rolled his eyes; if he thought that the female population of Hogwarts were a bunch of gossips, then the portraits were even worse. Then again, he imagined being stuck as a painting for the rest of his life would be quite boring, and he would need some way to keep himself entertained for centuries at a time.

He avoided the east side of the third-floor corridor, seeing the footsteps of Argus Filch and Mrs. Norris prowling about, and ducked behind a tapestry with a secret passageway that would take him down to the second floor undetected. The going was uneventful (except for when he nearly ran into Peeves while the poltergeist had been painting graffiti on the suits of armor on the first floor) but Remus could still feel his heart pounding anxiously.

What had happened to Piper? Why was she in the Hospital Wing? His anxiety kept conjuring up with the worst scenarios, making his brow break out in a sweat: Had somebody attacked her? Had she gotten into an accident somehow? Had she suddenly fallen fatally ill?

The more he thought, the more nauseous he became, until he thought he would vomit by the time he reached the doors of the Hospital Wing. Shaking off his nerves, however, he pulled out the map again and checked it. Madam Pomfrey was in her office, by the looks of it, which left Piper alone in the ward itself. Sealing the map with a hushed, "Mischief managed," he crept into the Hospital Wing, his eyes darting around warily and his ears perked for a sign of someone coming.

He shut the doors quietly behind him before beginning to creep down the rows of cots lined up against the walls. Down at the end of the row, there was a single bed with the curtains drawn around it, and his heart pinched when he recognized the cot to be the one usually reserved for him after his transformations. He snuck closer, checking to see that Madam Pomfrey's door was closed before pushing aside one of the curtains, preparing himself for the worst.

He recognized Piper easily, even when she was lying on her side and facing away from him. Her hair draped over the white pillow like swirls of black ink, and he could see the gentle curve of her body as it rose and fell in time with her breathing, the soft sound filling the silent air.

His heartrate seemed to lessen the longer he lingered. Piper was okay. Nothing terrible had happened. Relieved, he reached out a hand to pat down a wild curl unconsciously, but as soon as he touched her hair, she shot straight up in the bed, shoving her wand beneath his chin with a vicious growl.

"Piper!" he yelped, stumbling back. "Calm down! It's me."

Whatever relief he had previously felt was gone in an instant as he stared at her, taking in her wild eyes and furious snarl. The hollows beneath her eyes were shadowed and smeared with something black that he assumed had been her mascara at one point. Her skin was pale and held no trace of her usual makeup, which made her freckles stand out starkly against the whiteness of her skin. She seemed to be having trouble sitting up fully, for small tremors were going through her body, and her eyes were haunted when she looked to him, though they filled with tears when she seemed to finally recognize him, her wand falling limply to the bed.

"Remus," she whispered. "I – I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," he murmured, taking a cautious step closer. When she didn't react, he took another. "Piper, what happened? Are you all right?"

She smiled weakly, tears still glimmering in her eyes. "I am the furthest from all right I've ever been, truthfully."

He came and sat next to her on the cot, gazing at her in concern. She blinked rapidly at her admission, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of the pajamas she had been given, and his heart ached at the sight of her. He had always admired Piper's cool and confident persona, but the girl in front of him right now seemed beaten and frightened.

"Piper," he said seriously, "what happened?"

Her face screwed up at the question, her expression seeming to battle between rage and fear, before settling on shame, which he found alarming.

"I'm sorry for being a bitch to you this morning," she blurted out, and his brows furrowed in confusion. "In the common room. You were just trying to be nice, and I ignored you," she said to his puzzled look. "And I'm so sorry – after everything's that happened, I just wanted you to know that."

She was now crying, real, unfiltered tears that streamed down her cheeks quickly. Remus was stunned. He didn't think he had _ever_ seen Piper cry.

"You're fine, Pipes," he said, trying for a gentle smile. "Trust me, it takes a lot more than a glare to ruin my day."

This only made her cry harder, which alarmed Remus.

 _Way to go, asshole,_ he thought to himself bitterly. _Remus John Lupin, the master of making women cry, everybody._

"I'm such a bitch!" Piper wailed. "I was always so mean to you and the others. Archie was right."

She buried her head in her hands and sobbed, and Remus didn't know what else to do expect pat her back awkwardly.

"'S okay, Piper," he said. "Just, er, get it out."

She seemed to take his advice to heart, only calming down after several minutes had passed and looking immensely embarrassed, which he found strangely endearing.

"Ignore Archie," he said. "You're not a bitch, Piper, you hear me?"

Her face darkened at the mention of her brother, and the haunted look filled her eyes again.

"That's not what he said," she said grimly, and Remus frowned at the sudden change in her demeanor. Only a few minutes ago had she been weeping and apologizing, but now she looked angry, determined. "He told me that I always had to have my nose in everybody's business, and he was right." She chuckled humorlessly, and suddenly Remus was nervous.

"Piper," he said seriously, and her blue eyes bored into his, looking like chips of ice. "What happened in Hogsmeade?"

"Rabastan Lestrange," she said darkly, and his stomach flipped at the mention of the former Slytherin student. The last he heard, Rabastan had joined the Death Eaters upon graduating, and a lead weight seemed to weigh in his gut as he listened to Piper.

"I ran into him at The Three Broomsticks this morning," she continued. "I didn't remember who he was, and maybe if I had, I wouldn't have been so charmed." She shook her head in disgust. "After he left, I did too, to find you lot. But before I could, I saw Archie walking with Regulus Black. I was pissed that he was still associating with him after I had told him not to, so I followed them. They went into this alleyway behind the Hog's Head, and there they met with Rabastan Lestrange." An imperceptible shudder passed through her, but she went on.

"After Archie and Black had left, I cornered Rabastan. I threatened to turn him in to the Ministry for being a Death Eater, but he basically told me to fuck off." She scowled. "I thought that was the end of it, but then…"

She swallowed thickly, and Remus reached out and gripped her hand unthinkingly, silently imploring her to go on, reminding her that she wasn't alone. Her fingernails dug into his hand painfully, but he said nothing as she swallowed again.

"He – he tortured me," she said softly, and the blood rushing in Remus's ears ceased its roaring instantly. "He said he wanted to leave a message for Dumbledore." She shook her head angrily. "I was _so stupid._ If only I could learn to mind my own business, like Archie said, then none of this would have happened."

"Don't say that," Remus said, more harshly than he'd intended, and she stared at him with narrowed eyes. "You're his sister, Piper. You're supposed to look out for him. If I had had a brother, I would've done the same thing."

"But he wants to _join_ them," she said, her voice breaking a bit on the last part. "That's the point, Remus. If I hadn't been such a terrible sister to him – if I hadn't provoked Dad so much, if I'd only tried to be nicer – then he wouldn't hate us, and Archie wouldn't hate _me._ He wants to be a Death Eater, and it's all my fault!"

"It's not," Remus said, gripping her hand tighter. "Archie's a kid, Piper. He doesn't know what he wants – much less what he wants to do. I know how that feels: being lost, having so many questions you don't know the answers to – and to kids like him, they think a cause bigger than their own problems can help them find those answers. I don't agree with it, but I understand where he's coming from."

"I don't know how to help him," she admitted tearfully. "He blames me for everything, and I don't know how to fix that."

"Then we'll find a way," he said. "I don't want to see Archie go down this path, either, Piper. But we'll figure out something, together."

She didn't answer immediately, her eyes only searching his face intently – for what, he didn't know, but he found that he didn't quite mind having her eyes on him.

"There's something else you should know," she said quietly. "You asked me before to let you help me – I didn't want your help then, so I said nothing. But I don't want to keep secrets from you, Remus. Not anymore."

"You can tell me anything," he promised, and she gave him a tremulous smile.

"That one day, in the Great Hall, when Sirius said those… _things_ about Bertram Aubrey and me," she started, and Remus clenched the hand that wasn't holding hers into a fist at the memory. He'd wanted to hit Sirius, he was so angry – angry at the cruel words that had left his friend's mouth, angry that he thought he had just lost her again, angry at the image that kept replaying in his head, of Aubrey bending her over a table and fucking her…

"He was right, in a way," she continued, wrenching him out of his thoughts. "I did ask Aubrey to help me study for my O.W.L., and he did do all that stuff to me in the library. Except I didn't want to. He just…pushed me down and lifted my skirt, and…"

She shuddered, and Remus felt as if he'd been sucker punched in the gut. All the air left his body as the full implication of what Piper was saying hit him, and something within his chest snapped, a terrifying feeling that he had come to associate with the beast living in his blood, the creature that was unleashed every night of the full moon, and he suddenly saw red.

"I'll kill him," he said softly, and he honestly couldn't tell then whether he meant it or not. "I'll kill him for what he did to you."

"Remus," she said, aghast, but he yanked his hand out of her grasp, beginning to stalk the space between the cot and the curtains angrily. "Remus, please. Calm down."

"No!" he snarled. "Not after this! Not after what he did!"

"He won't get away with it, I promise, but please, just sit down," she said. "Hurting him won't solve anything, Remus. He deserves it, I know, but doing it will only make things worse."

He barely heard her over the blood roaring in his ears again. He had half a mind to go to Ravenclaw Tower then and let the beast have its revenge, but before he could do anything he was stopped in his tracks by Piper. She had slid out of her cot and come to stand in front of him, pushing herself onto her tip-toes to better meet his gaze, her hands raising to cradle each side of his face gently.

"Remus, please," she murmured, and her eyes were so earnest that the beast recoiled a little. "Please don't do anything rash. I can take care of this on my own. If you really want to help me, then just be here for me. That's all I want. Can you do that for me?"

He was very aware of her hands on his cheeks, her cold palms soothing to his blazing skin. The beast within growled, but when he gazed back into her eyes – so blue, so soft, so _strong_ – it retreated to its dark corner, allowing him to take a deep breath and nod resolutely.

"Anything," he said hoarsely. "I'd do anything for you."

She smiled then, the first genuine smile he had seen on her face in days. She led him back to the cot and they sat down, and suddenly he missed the feel of her soft hands. He watched as she settled back to bed, and he noticed then how exhausted she was, and he felt guilty for keeping her from the rest she obviously needed.

"I'll let you sleep," he said, patting her knee softly before standing, wondering if he would be so lucky to get any himself.

"Remus," she said quietly, and he turned to find her staring at him, a small, peaceful smile on her face. "Thank you."

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak, but he was stopped from leaving when her voice called out to him again.

"Remus?'

He turned once more to see her gazing at him, and an odd feeling of heart rushed through him when he took in her face, so sweet and so calm, despite everything that had happened to her.

"Yeah?" he said, and she patted the small space next to her on the cot.

"Do you mind staying with me tonight?" she asked, and it took him several moments to process what she had said.

"Er, yeah," he said. "Wait, no, I meant – I don't mind. I'll, uh, stay with you."

She seemed amused by his jumbled answer, but he ignored the small smirk she was giving him, instead toeing off his shoes and depositing the map and his wand on the bedside table. She shifted to make more room for him, and he laid down beside her, his lanky form practically dwarfing her much smaller one.

The cot was clearly only meant for one person, but after a bit of shuffling around he finally managed to find a comfortable enough position, with one arm under the pillow and the other resting awkwardly by his side. They faced the same direction, with his chest neatly lined up to her back, but he kept some space between them, not sure if she was okay with being touched or not, but that question soon received an answer.

"You know, I'm not poisonous or anything," she said snidely. "You can get closer than that."

He rolled his eyes. _And there's the Piper I'm used to._

"Fine," he said, scooting closer until they were almost touching. He could feel the warmth of her body seeping through the front of his jumper, and another rush of heat went through him that had nothing to do with her, yet he suspected also had everything to do with her.

"Goodnight, Remus," she said, once she was apparently satisfied.

"'Night, Pipes," he replied, and she was asleep almost instantly.

Remus laid awake for several more minutes, thinking of how strangely wonderful it felt to have Piper Everlark sleeping beside him, and almost wishing he could have this every night, before pushing that thought away and falling into a deep sleep.

* * *

I don't know how long I slept, but I know that it wasn't long enough. Madam Pomfrey's potions had worked their magic overnight (no pun intended), and even though I woke up with minimal pain, I still wanted to sleep for an entire day.

Until, of course, I remembered all the events of the previous day, and was suddenly wide awake, my heart galloping in my chest. I attempted to sit up but found that a heavy weight was slung across my waist, and I looked down, silently panicking a bit when I saw that the weight belonged to a human arm.

 _What the fuck?_

Now that I was aware of the arm around my waist, I could feel someone's very warm breath tickling the hairs on my neck, and I turned my head slightly to see Remus curled up on his side next to me, sleeping peacefully.

My face burned about a hundred degrees hotter than normal upon this realization, and I was surprised he hadn't woken up from the frantic pulsing of my heart alone. He was still dressed – thank God; if I had banged Remus Lupin, I'd want to be conscious for the whole thing – his sandy hair tousled from the pillow, and he was breathing deeply, sending pleasant chills down my spine every time he exhaled.

Good Godric, I couldn't believe this was happening to me right now. I mean, _Remus Lupin,_ my once-best-friend-turned-crush-turned-enemy-turned-acquaintance-turned-crush-again, was _sleeping in the same bed as me._ And the best part was that he looked so peaceful and sweet, and I couldn't help myself from staring at him like a creep, a sharp rod poking me in the heart.

I realized, then, that I _wanted_ this. Not just now, but, like, _forever._ I wanted _him._ The conviction of it was enough to twist my gut, and I squirmed uncomfortably until I noticed that my wriggling had awoken him.

His eyelids fluttered, and I quickly ran a hand over my mouth, searching for anything dry or crusty (I had a bad habit of drooling when I slept, okay?) before turning back over and feigning sleep, hoping he hadn't caught me staring at him all longingly and such.

"Piper?" he mumbled, and his voice was deep and scratchy from sleep. I was lucky the potions I had taken for my pain and fatigue were still encasing my body in a comatose state, or else I would've been soaking wet right about then. The arm around my waist retracted slightly, until he was shaking my hip and whispering, "Piper? You up?" into my ear. And even though I knew he wasn't trying to be seductive or anything, I suddenly wished he was.

Deciding that my charade was at an end, I rolled over _(not_ pushing myself closer to his chest – okay, who was I kidding, I totally was) and pretended to blink up blearily at him. It wasn't hard, considering that my eyelids felt like sandbags anyway, but he smiled at me when he saw me looking.

 _Sweet Merlin, has he always been this beautiful?_

"You have drool on your chin," he pointed out amusedly, and I slapped my hand to the offending area, my eyes shooting open. So much for my once-over.

"Fuck," I moaned, licking my hand and rubbing off the crustiness, "that's embarrassing."

"What about me?" he said with a grin, tilting his face for inspection. His scars weren't even visible in the soft morning light, and without thinking, I said, "Perfect."

We both seem startled by my word choice, but I looked away quickly, pretending to be interested in my pajama sleeve while he got up and stretched. His jumper slid up a bit when he raised his arms overhead, yawning, and I snuck a glance to the sliver of skin I saw there, not disappointed with what I saw.

"I'll go see if Pomfrey's awake," he said. "She'll want to check you right away."

"And how were you planning on telling her that you snuck in after hours and slept in the same bed as me to explain why you're here so early?" I asked, arching a brow when he paused, pursing his lips.

"I woke up early this morning to finish some homework in the library before running into Nearly Headless Nick, who saw you come in last night and informed me of your whereabouts since we're such good friends," he said easily, shrugging, and I was impressed. No wonder why the Marauders had always been able to get out of trouble so much; Remus was a natural liar, and he was good at it.

"You should be a politician with a tongue like that," I said, snorting, before internally groaning at what I had said.

He seemed bemused, only shrugging again before stepping out of the curtains to wake up Madam Pomfrey. When he was gone, I flopped back on my pillow, groaning.

"Get a grip on yourself, Piper," I muttered to myself. "Just because some nutcase tortured the ever-loving shit out of you doesn't give you the right to act like a blithering idiot."

I waited for only a couple minutes before Remus returned with Madam Pomfrey in tow. The young matron pushed open my curtains and waved her wand, running some diagnostic spells on me before clucking her tongue.

"I think the worst is over, Miss Everlark," she said, patting my leg gently before giving Remus a fond smile. "Mr. Lupin told me that you had confided in him of what happened when he came to see you this morning. It's lovely to see such a strong bond between friends." I made a face when they weren't looking, but she went on. "I must leave to get Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall. They've been wanting to speak to you for a while, and I believe they may have someone from the Ministry to ask some questions. I trust Mr. Lupin to watch over you while I'm gone; any emergency, and he will come straight to me."

"Got it," I said, and she flashed me a brief smile before hurrying out of the Hospital Wing, leaving Remus and I alone.

He took the chair next to my cot, suddenly looking grim now that the matron was gone, and I prodded his arm with my finger.

"Chin up," I told him. "You'll get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that." He didn't say anything, only staring into the distance pensively, and I sighed. "Remus, you're doing it again."

Now he looked to me. "Doing what?"

"Brooding." I raised an eyebrow at him. "What's wrong?"

"My best friend just got tortured by a Death Eater," he said, and he sounded so pained that I completely missed him referring to me as his best friend again. "And then Aubrey…"

His hands clenched on the arms of his chair, his knuckles turning white, and I chewed my lower lip for a moment, thinking.

"None of that was your fault," I pointed out, and he stabbed a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Maybe it is," he said lowly, as if he were speaking to himself. "If I had still been your friend, you could've come to me for help, not Aubrey. If I had gone to Hogsmeade with you yesterday, then—"

He broke off, rubbing his mouth in agitation, and I stared at him in shock and some concern, touched.

"We've gone over this before, Remus," I said as gently as I could. "We can't change the past. But we _can_ change the future."

"How are you so strong?" he asked me, and I felt my face heat again. "After everything…"

I shrugged uncomfortably. "Sometimes you just have to learn as you go along. And as long as I'm not dead, then I'll just have to pick myself up each time and keep going."

He stared at me, his expression unreadable, but before we could speak further, the doors to the Hospital Wing opened, allowing Madam Pomfrey to enter with the Headmaster, Professor McGonagall, and the most terrifying wizard I had ever seen following closely on her heels. I was disappointed that Aberforth wasn't among them, but my fear at the strange wizard quickly overrode that.

"Who the hell is that?" I whispered to Remus, whose eyes had gone wide at the sight of the grizzled wizard stomping his way toward us.

"Alastor Moody," he said in awe. At my blank look, he elaborated. "My dad introduced me to him when he visited our house once. He's the Head Auror in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He's put more Dark wizards in Azkaban than anyone."

"Where's the rest of his nose?" I asked. There was a considerable chunk of the body part missing from the wizard's face as he approached, making him look even more dangerous and frightening up close than from afar, but Remus didn't have time to answer, for just then the congregation arrived at my bedside.

"Miss Everlark," Professor Dumbledore greeted genially. I gave him a small wave, unsure of how to respond; I mean, yeah, the guy was the Headmaster, but that didn't mean I'd ever actually _spoken_ to him before. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I just got tortured, sir, but I'll be fine," I said, figuring honesty was the best policy here, and though the professors and Madam Pomfrey looked grim, Alastor Moody eyed me appraisingly for my attempt at humor.

"Indeed," he said, before sweeping his hand to indicate the other wizard. "Miss Everlark, this is Alastor Moody. He's an Auror, and someone I have placed my full trust in. He will be asking you a manner of questions to glean some information about the attack that took place in Hogsmeade yesterday upon your person."

"Sure," I said, shrugging, before turning to the Auror. "What do you want to know?"

"Send your boyfriend out first," he said gruffly, pointing to Remus and ignoring the way both our faces flushed at the comment.

Remus looked to me, and I nodded. He got to his feet.

"I'll be in the common room if you need me," he said.

"Let everyone know I'm okay?" I asked, and he nodded.

"Already on it," he said, and we shared one last smile before he departed. With Remus gone, I suddenly felt a lot more tired and anxious, but I waited expectantly for Moody to start.

Once he was sure Remus was gone, he turned back to me and pulled out his wand, a quill, and some parchment. He muttered something indecipherable, swishing his wand, but the parchment and quill began to float in midair, ready to copy down what I had to say.

"Where did the attack occur?" Moody questioned.

"In an alleyway, behind the Hog's Head," I answered.

"Time?"

"Er…" I struggled to remember, but I hadn't checked a clock before following Regulus and Archie into the alley. "Early afternoon? I can't remember the exact time, but I know it was daytime."

The quill was scratching at the parchment as I spoke, but I tried to focus on Moody instead. He was staring at me intently, his beady eyes watching me as if he were a human lie detector, ready to swoop upon me if I as much as uttered the wrong syllable.

"Why were you attacked, Miss Everlark?"

I hesitated here. Despite everything that had happened, my first instinct was to protect Archie. I didn't want to get him arrested or something for having ties to the Death Eaters, even though he wasn't one, and wouldn't ever be, if I had any say in the matter. Moody sensed my reluctance, for he leaned forward in the chair that had once been occupied by Remus, imploring me to speak.

"There was a man I had met in The Three Broomsticks before the attack," I said. "His name was Rabastan Lestrange." Moody's face darkened, and the three staff members traded a grim glance. "We, er, hit it off, I guess, and I followed him into the alleyway." It was the truth, technically, even though I had followed Archie and Regulus Black in the first place. "He said he wanted to leave a message for Professor Dumbledore, and then he…"

I trailed off, sucking in a deep breath. Moody was eyeing me curiously.

"Tell me, Everlark, what is your blood status?"

"I'm a Muggle-born," I said nervously, and he looked to Dumbledore solemnly.

"Lestrange has been on my watchlist for seven months," he said. "He's a known Death Eater and seems to have a liking for torturing Muggles and Muggle-borns, especially." He turned back to me. "Is there anything else you would like to add to your statement, Miss Everlark?"

"Just catch the bastard," I said angrily, and Moody's mouth twitched.

"That's my job, Miss Everlark," he said. "He'll rot in Azkaban for the rest of his life once we find him."

I believed him, and he got up to converse quietly with Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall while Madam Pomfrey went into her stores to find me some more potions. A few minutes later, Moody had turned back to me, while Dumbledore and McGonagall went to stand by the doors.

"If you think of anything else, Professor Dumbledore will allow you to Floo to my office," he said, handing me a battered business card. I took it, nodding gratefully, but he leaned in close, eyeing me intensely. "You're made of tougher stuff than most, Everlark. You ever think of being an Auror after school?"

"I – what?" I said blankly, and he grinned, though the expression was more unsettling than his scowl.

"Think about it," he said. "These are dark times, and we could use more people like you."

He moved off before I could even formulate a response, going back to talk to Dumbledore and McGonagall. I stared at his card, turning it over in my hands, while an inkling of an idea began to take shape in my mind.

* * *

 **Please review! I'd love to know your thoughts!**

 **xx**


	16. I Guess I'm Into Bestiality Now

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **So sorry for the delay, but welcome back! Thanks to everyone for sticking with this story!**

 **And thank you for all the new favorites/follows and to my reviewers from last time: LoveFiction2018, feelthatfire, Degrassiloverxoxo, AliceinWonderland13, HTMLfreak, DianaBlack27, and Guest!**

* * *

Chapter Sixteen: I Guess I'm Into Bestiality Now

You know that feeling when you _know_ you're having the worst dream of your life, but you can't force yourself to wake up from it?

It fucking _sucks._

In my dream, I was back in the alley, with Rabastan Lestrange standing over me. He kept chanting, _"Sing, little lark, sing!"_ and even though I knew I was dreaming, every cast of the Cruciatus felt real. The worst part, however, was not reliving my torture, but when Rabastan's face kept flickering and changing: One minute it was him standing over me, the next it was Bertram Aubrey's smug grin and glittering blue eyes, and then it was Sirius, then James, then Dorcas, then Regulus, Archie, on and on…until Remus.

Watching him torture dream-me was a feeling I had never experienced before, and I knew then without a doubt that I would take a hundred more _Crucios_ if it meant I would never feel that way again. Getting tortured was one thing – but getting tortured by the man you loved was infinitely worse, even if it wasn't real.

I woke with a start, shaking uncontrollably and still hearing the chants of _"Sing, little lark, sing!"_ in my ears. The bedsheets of the hospital cot I was sleeping in were damp with sweat, and my pajamas were sticking to my skin uncomfortably. Luckily, I had thrown my hair into a bun before I went to sleep, but random pieces were still plastered to my temples and the back of my neck from sweating.

A soft snort from my right side made me leap about a foot in the air, and my head snapped toward the sound, my eyes widening when I saw a figure asleep in the chair next to my cot.

 _"Remus?"_ I whispered incredulously.

He snorted again, his eyes opening blearily, but he jumped when he saw me staring at him.

"Shit," he mumbled, struggling to sit up. I noticed he was wearing the hospital-issued pajamas like I was, and I became even more confused.

"What are you doing in here?" I asked. "I told you yesterday I would only be in here for a couple more days—"

I paused upon realizing how pale and weak he looked, sitting hunched over in the chair with dark shadows under his eyes, and I turned to peer out of the high windows of the Hospital Wing. Though the sky was lightening to an iron grey with the approach of dawn, I could still see the silhouette of the full moon behind the wispy clouds, and suddenly his presence made a lot more sense.

"Remus, go back to bed!" I said, whirling on him in shock. "You just had a transformation! You should be resting!"

"Couldn't," he said, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head. "You were crying out in your sleep…"

I flushed furiously, cringing. Great. As if I needed more pity in my life.

I had been in the Hospital Wing for three days, which meant three days of visitors swarming me and fussing over me because I was the poor little girl who had gotten tortured. I don't even know how people had found out, but I suspected it had something to do with the Slytherins. Only Rabastan Lestrange had been present, and I knew some Slytherins had Death Eater ties from their parents or siblings, so it wasn't hard to figure it out. Still, the pity and the worry were almost worse than the torture.

Dorcas, Becca, and Emmeline had been distraught when they had visited me after my talk with Alastor Moody, and it had taken an hour to get through their hysterics and calm them down. JJ and Alfie had only stood stoically while Dom burst into tears at the sight of me (which was terrifying since he was so big, but not surprising because he also happened to be the world's biggest teddy bear), and Benjy had ranted about revenge until Madam Pomfrey had to give him a dose of Draught of Peace to get him to stop.

James, Sirius, and Peter had come with Remus not long after, and it was obvious Remus had explained everything to them, for James and Sirius had tried to treat me as normally as possible, for which I was grateful. Peter had looked almost gleeful at my predicament, which was unexpected; I mean, I knew he still disliked me and didn't want me back in their friend group, but did he really hate me that much? That thought was disconcerting, but I knew that was a problem to be solved another time. Even Lily, Alice, Marlene, and Mary had stopped by to bring me flowers and express their sympathy, but Lily was the only one who had sounded sincere. Or maybe I was still biased. After all, Alice _had_ brought me a stack of _Witch Weekly_ that I hadn't read yet, and Mary had hugged me. Marlene I wasn't so sure about, but there was time for me to warm up to her.

The only person who had been noticeably absent was Archie. _That_ had hurt a lot more than it should have, now that I knew my brother wanted to be a Death Eater with his new pal Regulus. I had been agonizing over that for days, but the real problem was trying to work out what I would say to Mum.

It had taken a lot of begging and pleading with Dumbledore and McGonagall to not write my parents about what had happened. I didn't want to worry Mum, and Dad would probably be too drunk to care. I had convinced them to let me write my parents and explain everything, but how could I even begin to tell my mum that her daughter had been tortured at the hands of a person who hated Muggle-borns and that her son wanted to join those same people? I couldn't explain that. There was no way.

I cleared my throat, ripping myself out of my thoughts and capturing Remus's attention again.

"Yeah, er, sorry about that," I said. "Bad dream."

"Do you want to talk about it?" He looked haunted, and even though I wanted nothing more than to talk about it, I didn't want to worry him any more than I already had.

So instead I shook my head and gave him a small smile. "No, it was just a dream. I'll be all right." Before he could argue, I continued. "What about you? How are you feeling?"

He winced as if my question had pained him. "I've been better." He shook his head, letting out a weary sigh. "Not gonna lie, Pipes, this transformation was terrible. The worst one I've had in years."

"How come?" I was genuinely curious. Remus never went into detail about his transformations, but it seemed that tonight he had let his guard down a little bit.

He looked down to his hands, and I noticed they had bruises and cuts all over them. His fingers were tangling together anxiously, and I slipped out of the bed to sit cross-legged before him on the floor, reaching up and putting my hands over his. He stilled at my touch, and I looked up at him curiously, silently urging him to speak.

"Moony…" He inhaled sharply, his eyes downcast, focusing on our hands. "I guess I should explain that first. Lycanthropy…it's like having two different consciousnesses. They don't necessarily battle for dominance; it's more like coexistence. There's me – Remus, and there's the wolf – Moony. Moony is dormant most of the time, except for when the full moon comes around and he takes over – when I transform into a werewolf.

"The thing about Moony is that he's not human." His face darkened, and I squeezed his hands reassuringly. "Werewolf rights activists argue that they are human – and they are, on every other night besides the full moon. I'm not human when I transform, Piper, that's the thing. And I _know_ that I'm not human when that happens."

He paused, seeming to gather himself before continuing. "Since werewolves aren't human anymore when they transform, all the things that make me human become compressed. Moony can't handle complex emotions because he's not human – he's a wolf, and so he thinks like a wolf thinks. So, everything I was feeling when I was human – all the worry and anger and guilt over you – became a confusing mess of emotions Moony isn't equipped to handle. And when that happens, he gets a little…wild."

I nodded. "You know, that actually makes sense."

He stared at me. "Really?"

"Yeah." I shrugged. "It's about different instincts in each of you. Two different sets of wants and needs. And they may overlap sometimes, but from what I'm understanding, it's distinct to you. You can tell who's thinking what."

I couldn't explain how I could understand that, but it was a welcome distraction from everything else that was weighing on my mind. It was like my brain was searching for something to occupy it instead of the constant fear and anxiety I had been experiencing for the last several days, and it had decided that the inner mechanisms of lycanthropy were a good option.

Remus was still staring at me as if he had never seen me before. "That's…the first time I ever talked about that."

I grinned smugly. "Well, I do have a talent for getting people to talk about their deepest, darkest secrets."

He cracked a grin. "You always were persuasive."

"Manipulative," I corrected with a wink, and he chuckled. I squeezed his hands again. "Thank you for telling me, Remus. I know it's not something you like to talk about, but I appreciate it."

"'Course, Pipes," he said, stifling a yawn, but I was instantly on my feet, pulling him up with me.

"Now, get back to bed before I punch your lights out."

"So aggressive," he mumbled, stumbling when he stood up, and I saw that his eyes were already drooping shut. In the next instant, he had passed out, and I nearly buckled under his deadweight.

"Fuck," I said. I looked around and saw that his cot was on the other side of the room, and I cursed again. There was no way I would be able to make it over there with him unconscious – my shoulders were already starting to ache just from holding him up.

My best bet was letting him sleep in my cot while I took over his, so I dragged him towards my bed, grunting with the effort. For a lanky piece of straw, Remus sure weighed a ton, and it took all my strength to heave him onto the mattress.

I collapsed over his upper body, panting and trying to regain my energy (turns out getting tortured takes a lot out of you) so I could lift his legs into the cot, but I froze when I noticed that his eyes were open and gazing right at me – except they weren't his eyes, not entirely.

I knew the exact shade of green his eyes were by heart, and this was different. While his irises were still the same color, they were now ringed with gold, and there was a strange golden backlight to them that made them reflect the faint moonlight streaming in through the windows. His pupils were blown wide, as well, almost swallowing the green, and I knew some part of me should be uneasy, but I wasn't.

"Remus?" I said softly. He made no sign of acknowledgement, and I hesitated only a little before saying, "Moony?"

Slowly, he blinked up at me, and my heart jumped. I had always wondered how lycanthropy worked – were they a werewolf only when the moon was at its peak? What if it was hidden by clouds? Did they only show symptoms on that one night, or however long the moon appeared to be full? – and it seemed that now I was getting some answers.

I reached my hand up as slowly as possible, trying not to startle him with any sudden moves, and his eyes followed the movement warily, but also with something that I dared to describe as curiosity. Wavering only a bit, I placed my hand on his clammy cheek, his skin feverish against mine. Moony looked back up to me, and Remus's chest began heaving with faster breaths, as if he had been running.

Suddenly, his hand shot out and gripped my other wrist, yanking me down until we were nose-to-nose, and I froze, hardly daring to breathe. Moony was using Remus's nose to inhale deeply now, and I realized with a flare of shock that he was _scenting_ me. I refused to move a muscle, torn between morbid fascination and nervous apprehension, as I heard something akin to a rumbling growl deep within Remus's chest.

Without warning, he released me, and I stumbled back, surprised. Moony was still watching me, and I realized almost instinctively that he had been _approving_ me, deciding if I was worthy or not. I guessed that meant I had passed the test, because in the next moment Remus's eyes had closed again, and he was fast asleep, Moony lying dormant once more.

I stood, dumbfounded, until I had regained enough sense to cross over to Remus's vacant cot and lie down on it. I couldn't believe that just happened. I pinched my arm, hard, to make sure I wasn't still dreaming, but when my skin stung and a dot of blood appeared, I knew it had all been real.

I knew I should be frightened, or freaked out, at the least, but all I felt was exhilaration and even a little bit…horny?

My brain slammed on the brakes, filling my head with the sound of screeching tires. Hold up. Did I really just come face-to-face with the werewolf living inside my best friend and crush and have my response be, _"Damn, that's pretty hot. I'd tap that."_? What the hell?

 _Well,_ I thought to myself, _I guess I'm into bestiality now._

The thought did nothing to make me feel any saner.

* * *

"Get me out of here before I blow my brains out."

Sirius chuckled, but James shot me an unamused glare.

"Don't joke about stuff like that, Piper," he admonished me, and I rolled my eyes.

"God, when did you turn into such a _mum,_ Potter?" I whined, throwing my head back on my pillows and groaning. "I just want to _leave_ already. I'm going crazy in here!"

"Don't worry, Pipes, we'll get you out," said Sirius, winking, and James crossed his arms.

"She'll get out when Madam Pomfrey tells her she can leave—"

Sirius and I both groaned, rolling our eyes.

"Evans must really have you whipped," Sirius said sadly, shaking his head. "Acting like a _real_ Head Boy and everything—"

"James Fleamont Potter," I lamented. "Gone too soon from this world. May his rule-abiding, responsible soul find peace in the afterlife of losers—"

"I knew there was a reason why I hated you two being friends," he said, scowling. "You were always the ones to gang up on me."

Sirius and I exchanged a high-five, and James looked as if he had aged ten years in one day.

"Seriously, though," I said, sitting up in my cot and stretching. "I've been here nearly a week! You'd think they were worried about Lestrange coming to finish the job or something."

"Well, you _were_ tortured," Sirius pointed out, shrugging. "They just wanted to be sure you hadn't suffered any extensive damage."

"The only person who's going to suffer extensive damage is your brother once I get out of here," I said. "Uh, no offense."

I had filled in James and Sirius on the intricacies of what had led to my encounter with Rabastan, but Sirius looked wholly unruffled at me mentioning 'suffer' and his brother in the same sentence.

"Goody," he said, leaning back in his chair and tossing his hair out of his eyes. "I'll hold him from behind while you throw the punches."

I grinned, but James looked disapproving. "Look, Pipes, I dunno what's going on between Regulus and your brother, but shouldn't you talk to Archie before going to Regulus? Maybe he could explain—"

"Explain what?" I said coldly. "How he wants to join the Death Eaters and turn on Muggle-borns, people just like him?" I shook my head. "I knew Archie hated being a wizard, but I didn't know his hatred would grow into something like this. And if I can get Regulus to understand how bad recruiting Archie would be, then maybe that would knock some sense into my brother and make him realize that no matter his beliefs, he would never be accepted by those who think he's lesser because of his blood."

James still looked uneasy. "There may be more to the story, Piper—"

"Oh, give it a rest, James," said Sirius. "If Regulus is trying to get Archie recruited, then how deep do you imagine Regulus is in himself already?"

James said nothing to that, fortunately, for just then Madam Pomfrey bustled over, eyeing me critically.

"How are you feeling, Miss Everlark?" she asked, waving her wand in what I had come to learn meant she was running diagnostic spells.

"Right as rain," I said, chipper. "Can I go now? Please?"

She clucked her tongue, looking as if she wanted to say no, but she nodded once. "Yes, you may leave today. But if anything feels off, even slightly—"

"—Then I know who to come to," I finished, bouncing to my feet. "Got it, Pom-Pom."

"Please don't call me that."

With the matron signing off my formal discharge, I nearly skipped out of the Hospital Wing with James and Sirius following. The two boys had come at my request after Dorcas had brought me a change of clothes the night before and I asked her to tell them to meet me the next morning, without telling Remus and Peter. She had been wary when I told her, but I knew she would come through.

"So, remind me again why we're here?" asked James as we began descending towards the Great Hall, gesturing between him and Sirius. The castle was empty, as most everyone was in class, and our footsteps echoed loudly on the stone floors.

I shrugged, not turning around. "You're both intimidating and skilled in dueling. I need friends who will have my back if something goes south."

Sirius spoke up next, sounding less confident than he had before. "What does that mean?"

I shrugged again, not answering, and even though I could feel them exchanging a glance behind my back, they kept following me.

We jogged down the marble staircase that led into the Entrance Hall, but they stopped walking when I began heading towards the dungeons.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," James said, his eyes widening comically behind his glasses. "You're not about to go _in_ the Slytherin Common Room, are you?"

"Of course not," I said, rolling my eyes. _"We_ are."

Sirius, though not nearly as uneasy as James, still looked confused. "It's guarded by a password, though, isn't it?"

"Yep."

"Then how do we get in?"

"We speak the password."

He and James swapped another glance. "Do you know the password?"

"We wouldn't be going to the common room if I didn't," I said.

James was gobsmacked. "How do you know the Slytherin password?"

I grinned, tapping my temple. "That's for me to know, and you to never find out."

Honestly, it had been pretty simple. Since the house-elves brought me my meals in the Hospital Wing, it had been easy to pull one aside and act like I was a worried Slytherin student that had forgotten the password to the common room because my torture had affected my memory. The small house-elf had been horrified and sympathetic to my desperate, tearful plight, and she had given me the password without hesitation.

I traipsed down the stairs leading to the dungeons, James and Sirius following behind cautiously. I had only glimpsed the secret entrance to the Slytherin Common Room once a few years ago when I had hooked up with a Slytherin bloke (it was more of a hate-fuck, really – I had a lot of angst at the time and he apparently had a thing for Muggle-borns, unlike the rest of his House), but since I had a great memory, I could still recall how to get there. I marched right up to the entrance, and without hesitation, said, _"Ouroboros."_

"Really?" Sirius scoffed. "That's their password?"

"It's symbolic," I said, as the stone wall began to grind open, allowing us entry. "A snake devouring its own tail, usually representing infinity or wholeness?" I shook my head. "Slytherins are dramatic bitches, but at least they do it well."

I stepped inside the common room without waiting for them, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the dim, greenish light. The room was long and low, with glowing braziers of green flames and tapestries of silver and emerald. Huge windows spanned across one wall, and I blinked, shocked; I'd heard rumors of the Slytherin Common Room being located under the Black Lake, but I didn't think it was true until I saw it for myself.

The common room was mostly empty as James and Sirius followed me inside, except for a small group of fifth-years that included Regulus Black who were seated at one of the tables by the windows, just as I had counted on, thanks to knowing Archie's schedule and pinpointing which block all the fifth-years had free.

There was a heartbeat of silence before there was a sudden scraping of chairs, all the Slytherins except Regulus getting to their feet and drawing their wands. Sirius and James did the same behind me, but I only faced Regulus calmly, smiling serenely.

"C'mon, Reggie, there's no need for a fight," I said to him sweetly. "I just came to chat."

He remained expressionless, the perfect picture of pure-blood refinement, and it was eerie how closely he resembled Sirius. However, at my words, he raised a hand, signaling for the other Slytherins to stop advancing.

"Go," he told them in a bored tone.

"Reg," one of them – a girl with raven hair – hissed, eyeing us maliciously, but Regulus glared at her icily, making her wilt.

"I said, _go,"_ he repeated, and his tone was so dangerous that even I wavered for a moment.

Reluctantly, the Slytherins shuffled towards the common room door, throwing us spiteful looks and promising retribution, which was quite cute, coming from a bunch of fifteen-year-olds with acne and cracking voices.

When they had gone, Regulus gestured for me to sit. I took the seat across from his while Sirius and James flanked me, their wands lowered, but still in their hands. Regulus gave Sirius a lazy smile.

"Long time, no see, brother," he said acidly. "I see you're still mucking around in the filth with your little blood traitor and Mudblood friends here."

"I think you've been sucking at Mum's tit for too long, Reg," said Sirius, sneering. "You're starting to sound just like her."

A flicker of anger passed over Regulus's face at that, but it was gone before he turned back to me. "And what does a Mudblood want from me? Was Rabastan Lestrange not enough to satisfy you?"

I ignored him. "Leave my brother alone, you piece of shit, or what Rabastan did to me will be _nothing_ compared to what I do to you."

"Ah, yes." He chuckled, sitting back. "Archie warned me about you. You see, he was worried that Rabastan had gone after you because of our meeting in Hogsmeade, but according to Rabastan, _you_ were the one who sought _him_ out. Not that I can blame you, Everlark – all the girls still talk about him and how good of a fuck he is—"

"I'm not here to make conversation, Black," I said. "Leave. Archie. Alone."

"Your brother came to _me,"_ he said, his lip curling. "At first, I thought the Mudblood was joking when he said he wanted to join up with the Dark Lord, but when I realized he was _serious…"_ He chuckled. "Well, who was I to say no?"

"I don't think you're hearing me properly," I said darkly. "Leave Archie out of whatever you're doing, or else I'm going to Dumbledore."

"You have no proof," he said, smirking. "Keep making your empty threats, Everlark, they'll do you no good."

I lunged for him before he could blink. He toppled out of his chair, rolling across the plush carpet, before I hauled him up by the neck of his robes and slammed him into the window, the inky expanse of the lake yawning behind him. My wand was pressed against his chest, over his heart, and he yelped when it burned a hole through his robes.

"Then think of this as a promise," I snarled, staring dead into his eyes and feeling satisfied when I saw a glimmer of fear in them. "If you lead Archie down this path, then nothing in this world will stop me from getting to you, do you understand? I don't care who or what stands in my way – I will see you _destroyed."_

I dug my wand deeper, and he gasped. "Is that enough of a promise for you, Black?"

He nodded reluctantly, but his gaze was baleful as I released him and backed away.

"Don't make the mistake of thinking you're the only one who cares about Archie!" he snapped, but before I could ask what he meant, he had already disappeared up one of the staircases, leaving me, James, and Sirius to stand uncertainly in the common room, trading a nervous glance.

And here I thought that my biggest worry for the year was having to work on a play with Remus Lupin. Life comes at you fast.

* * *

 **Please review! I love hearing your thoughts!**

 **As most of you have probably noticed, this story is shaping up to be a lot more than just a play (which is still going to happen!). Originally I planned on this being a short, 25-30 chapter fic, only spanning through Piper's sixth year, but after some reconsideration I've decided to take her story further and most likely into the First Wizarding War. I hope you will all stick around for that, as I am very excited to continue working on this fic and taking it in the direction I intend!**

 **xx**


	17. A Burnt Marshmallow

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **Welcome back! This is quite a long and action-packed chapter (but with it being the titular one, it's to be expected), but it's an important progression of things, particularly when it comes to Piper's relationship with herself, in my opinion.**

 **Thank you for all the new favorites/follows, and thanks to my reviewers from last time: Sparky She-Demon, feelthatfire, Epochs, LoveFiction2018, Hecade, amazinglystrange, Inthewakeofdetermination, beeezzz, kiwihalloween10, wickedgrl123, and Guest!**

 ***Friendly reminder that this story is rated M for a reason. This chapter has some mildly explicit sexual themes, so don't like, don't read. Thanks!***

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Chapter Seventeen: A Burnt Marshmallow

"You don't have to be here, you know," Lily said to me worriedly.

We were standing in the classroom the MAC rehearsals were always held in, loitering around until the last stragglers showed up and we could begin. This was the first rehearsal I had attended since Hogsmeade, having been in the Hospital Wing for last week's, but I was determined to get my life back on track, even though I was further from normalcy than I had ever been.

"I'm fine, Lily, seriously," I said to her beseeching stare. "I'm never going to get my part down unless I rehearse."

"We can always find another Titania if you're not ready, Piper—" she started, but I cut her off before she could finish.

"Like who? I'm the only one good enough for the part." I grinned cheekily when she sighed. "Look, Lily, I appreciate your concern, but the last thing I need is to retreat from my life," I said earnestly. "Yeah, boohoo, I got my shit lit up by some Death Eater scum, but trust me, I got off easy compared to others. You know that."

Her face darkened at this, but she knew I was right. We were both Muggle-borns, both targets, but there were a lot more people like us who had been murdered just for their blood status – and those were just the ones we knew about from the papers.

"You're right," she said finally, letting out a heavy sigh. "It's just scary, you know? It's so easy to pretend like everything is all right while we're in school, but what happened to you really hit home for a lot of people, including me."

I bumped her shoulder with mine, grinning. "Well, at least I'll know I'm safe next year while Lily Evans takes on Death Eaters with the Order. You should get tattoos or something. Like, one for every Death Eater's arse you've kicked—"

She laughed, though I could tell she was thinking about her promise of fighting for the Order of the Phoenix next year once she graduated by the tightness in her eyes.

"We'll see," she said amusedly, her gaze skimming the crowd before landing on something interesting. "Oh, good, Remus is here."

I whipped my head in the direction she was staring, indeed seeing that Remus had just arrived with the other Marauders. He looked fit as hell tonight, sporting a black shirt and dark jeans, and I'm pretty sure that was drool in my mouth.

I hadn't told him about any of the weird stuff that had happened last week, particularly the incident in the Hospital Wing with him, ah, _sniffing_ me. I guess that had been more Moony than him, but still. He didn't mention anything about it if he even remembered, so I kept my lips sealed, not wanting to make things awkward between us. I also had yet to tell him about my strange meeting with Regulus Black, and I assumed James and Sirius were waiting for me to tell him myself, as they hadn't said anything to him on their own. Even _I_ was having a hard time coming to terms with it, though. My sole purpose had been to get Regulus to stay away from Archie, but his comment about me not being the only one who cared about my brother had rattled my cage, which I'm sure had been his intent. Still, it bothered me, making me wonder if something was going on between Archie and Regulus that I wasn't aware of.

Not that I could get an answer out of my brother, either. He had been studiously avoiding me ever since I had gotten out of the Hospital Wing, and normally I would've dragged him into an empty classroom kicking and screaming at this point to get some answers out of him, but something James had said to me last week about not knowing the whole story was keeping me on the fence. There had to be more to the notion of Archie wanting to join the Death Eaters besides writing him off as a stupid, impressionable kid. I just had to plan out how I was going to get him alone and trust me enough to want to tell me. And that was a different kind of battle altogether.

"All right, everybody, let's get to work," Remus said over the chattering club members, clapping his hands together. "We have a little over a month to get this thing polished and performance ready. Let's take it from the top."

 _Yes, sir,_ I thought to myself as I went to take my place. _You can order me around anytime._

"Watch out, Pipes," James said teasingly as he passed me on the way to his own spot. "You have a little drool on your chin."

I refrained from shoving him off the stage as he continued walking, chuckling under his breath, and I knew with some resign that he would never stop tormenting me about fancying Remus until I did something about it.

And I knew I had to do something, fast, because his muscles in that shirt were wearing down my resolve even more. It was only a matter of time before I made a complete fool out of myself, and the small part of me that was still Piper Everlark, Sex Goddess, would not approve of that.

 _Damn you, black T-shirt. This is all your fault._

As if he could hear my thoughts, Remus turned from where he was helping a first-year with his lines and locked eyes with me across the room, and the smile he sent me nearly brought me to my knees. I grinned back nervously before turning away quickly, my smile turning into a grimace.

 _Yeah, it's definitely time to do something about this._

* * *

Later that night, I found myself standing in front of the full-length mirror in our dormitory, plucking my eyebrows with tweezers and cursing at each hair I pulled.

"Piper, do you really have to do that in here?" Emmeline asked me, a faintly disgusted expression on her face as she watched me tackle another hair. "The bathroom's right there."

"This mirror is better," I countered, wincing as I ripped another hair out.

Emmeline just shook her head, already deciding that I was a lost cause and going back to the quiz she was doing with Becca from the new issue of _Witch Weekly._

"Next, pick a drink," she said. "Butterbeer, firewhiskey, gillywater, or spiced pumpkin juice."

"What does my drink choice have to do with what kind of bloke I'm attracted to?" Becca said, wrinkling her nose.

Em sighed. "It says that if you like butterbeer, you like blokes that are warm and sweet; firewhiskey is rebellious and a bad boy; gillywater is for loyal and committed blokes; and spiced pumpkin juice means you're attracted to blokes who are witty and good in bed."

"Oh, then I'll take spiced pumpkin juice," Becca said, grinning mischievously as Emmeline checked it off. "What about you, Pipes? I know you have a thing for firewhiskey types."

I snorted, finishing my brows and coming to sit with them on Becca's bed. "If I liked firewhiskey types, I would've shagged Sirius Black by this point. Put me down for butterbeer."

"Hm," Emmeline said, marking me off. "Remus Lupin seems pretty butterbeer to me. Good choice, Piper."

I flushed as she and Becca snickered at my expression. "Not you too," I groaned.

"Piper, anyone with eyes can see that you have the hots for him," said Becca sympathetically, patting my hand.

"And he has them for you, too," Emmeline agreed.

I whirled on her, eyes wide. _"What?"_

Becca laughed incredulously. "You can't be that dense, honey."

Emmeline was staring at me as if I were mad. "You really haven't noticed?" she said. "This whole time I thought you were just tormenting the poor bloke! Merlin, Piper, you're oblivious."

I was spared from having to answer, trying to wrap my head around this new development, when the dormitory door opened, and Dorcas waltzed in, waving four envelopes in her hand.

"Evening, ladies," she said smoothly, tossing the envelopes on the bed and draping herself across Emmeline's lap as she joined us.

"What are these?" Becca asked, picking up one of the envelopes and examining it.

"Invitations," she replied breezily. "Mary just gave them to me on my way up. They're for the Marauders' Halloween party this Friday. She said that we were all invited."

"Wicked," Emmeline said, snatching up her own and reading the invitation inside. "I've never been to one of their parties before."

I winced involuntarily, knowing that it was because of me that they hadn't been invited in the past. I glanced over my own invitation, which was decorated with dancing skeletons and laughing pumpkins, reading:

 _THE MARAUDERS' LAST ANNUAL HALLOWEEN BASH_

 _When: Friday, 31 October 1977_

 _Where: Gryffindor Common Room_

 _What: Come celebrate the last Marauders' Halloween Bash in style. Costumes required. Food and beverages will be served. Feel free to bring own._

 _HAPPY HALLOWEEN_

"Damn," Becca said. "I guess we should come up with costume ideas, then."

I didn't respond, my mind working quickly. A party! It was brilliant. The Marauders' parties were famous for alcohol, and liquid courage was exactly what I needed to spill my guts to Remus about my feelings. And if he reacted terribly, I could just blame it on being drunk. It really was too perfect.

Little did I know, the universe had other plans for me.

* * *

The day before the Marauders' Halloween party would go down as the longest day in history – at least, in my mind it would.

After spending Wednesday night debating costume ideas, Dorcas, Becca, Emmeline, and I had finally agreed on what to go as, and I had to say, I was eager to debut our costumes _(not_ to impress Remus Lupin, mind you).

Actually, fuck it. Yeah, it was.

"Miss Everlark, if I catch you doodling on your parchment again when you're supposed to be taking notes, it's detention."

I looked up from where I'd been scrawling on my parchment to see Professor McGonagall eyeing me sternly from where she had been teaching at the blackboard. I grimaced, muttering, "Sorry, Professor," before opening up the proper page in my Transfiguration book to follow along with the lesson.

A few snickers floated around the room after McGonagall's callout, but the classroom fell silent again as she went on teaching. When her back was turned, Benjy leaned over to me and whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

"Since when do you draw cute little hearts and flowers?" he said.

I glowered at him, shoving the parchment under my book so he couldn't look at it any further. "Since today."

He snorted softly. "Usually you draw stick people getting various limbs torn off," he pointed out.

"Well, getting tortured changes you," I whispered back, and I sighed when he looked to me in alarm. "It was just a joke, Benj. Calm down."

"You shouldn't joke about that, Piper," he said angrily. "We were all worried about you—"

"And I appreciate the concern," I reassured him, "but Christ, Benj, I don't have to let it scare me. Humor is my coping mechanism – especially if it's morbid humor."

He still looked unhappy with me, but he dropped it. "I guess you're right. Sorry, Pipes."

I blew him a kiss. "Love you, Benjy."

He rolled his eyes. "Love you too, psycho."

The lesson droned on after that, but I was thankful Benjy hadn't asked me again about the doodles. Admitting that I was thinking about ways to tell Remus that I fancied the shit out of him would've earned me an earful of jokes and innuendos, and the last thing I needed was to back out of my commitment on telling a certain werewolf how I felt about him.

When the bell rang throughout the castle, I gathered my stuff and walked with Benjy to the door of the classroom, ignoring the irritating flip of my stomach when I saw Remus standing with the other Marauders in the corridor.

"Ah, our two favorite sixth-years!" James said loudly, breezing over to us and slinging his arms around our shoulders. "How goes it, my little children?"

"We're a year below you, James, not five," I said, rolling my eyes. "And we're fine, thank you."

"Did you get our invitations for tomorrow?" he asked, ignoring me. "It's gonna be the party of the century. People will be talking about it for years to come. We'll be legends."

"Yeah, we'll be there," Benjy said, sounding quite breathless at having been included by the Marauders.

"Don't forget your costumes," Sirius added, pushing back his hair and almost causing some poor girl behind him to collapse. "What are you wearing, Pipes? Something revealing, I hope?"

"You wish," I retorted. "And I'm not telling you. Dorcas would kill me if I spoiled the surprise."

"Speaking of surprises," said Remus, chiming in, "wait 'til you see what we have in store for tomorrow."

I looked to him as neutrally as I could, raising my brows. "If it's anything less than hags performing burlesque, I'm not coming."

He laughed, and my stomach did the weird flip-flop thing again. I tried to write it off as indigestion, but when he looked at me with his dimples and crinkly eyes, I knew it was my dumb feelings making themselves known.

"Trust me, it's better than that," he said, winking at me, and I probably would've jumped him on the spot if James hadn't purposefully stomped on my foot.

"Ow!" I cried, pushing him off me and holding my foot up gingerly. "Watch where you're stepping, you arse!"

"Sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all, but his eyes conveyed, _I just saved your pride and reputation, Everlark, so shut the bloody hell up._ "You know what they say about big feet, though, right?"

"Not around the children, Prongs," Sirius said, clapping a hand over his mate's mouth before ushering him into the classroom with muffled protests as Peter tripped on their heels in his haste to follow.

Remus turned back to me before following his friends in, raising a questioning brow. "See you at the party?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," I replied easily, and tossed my hair for good measure.

He seemed stumped for a moment before Sirius yelled for him to get his arse into the classroom, quickly followed by a sharp reproach from McGonagall for his language. He shook his head, only grinning at me and saying, "Good," before heading into the room.

"Shit," Benjy muttered beside me, and I looked up to him quizzically as he shook his head. "I hate betting against Dorcas. I owe her five Galleons now."

"For what?" I said, confused.

"Oh, nothing," he replied airily, instead looping my arm through his as we headed down the corridor. "Just a little wager we had going on. No need to worry about it."

Something told me I _should_ be worried about it, but I didn't press him, instead thinking back to our short interaction with the Marauders, and wondering if I'd only imagined the way Remus had looked at me.

* * *

 _She knows. Fucking hell, she knows._

This was Remus's only thought as he took his seat in McGonagall's class, remembering the way he'd openly stared, transfixed, as Piper brushed her hair over her shoulder before she'd turned back, catching him in the act when he'd been momentarily speechless.

 _I'm an idiot,_ he thought in a panic. _She's my friend, and after everything she's been through, I'm being an arse by fucking ogling at her and making her uncomfortable. I'm such an insensitive prick._

And to think he'd been doing so well, he thought bitterly. He'd tried his best to be there for her after what had happened to her in Hogsmeade, to be the supportive friend he hadn't been in years, and just when he thought he was finally doing right by her, he learned what Aubrey had done.

He'd never felt so _helpless._ All he could think about after she'd told him were all the times he had stood back while his friends taunted her and insulted her and done nothing in her defense. He was useless, is what he was. Back then and now. And his increased infatuation with her was certainly not helping in the slightest.

She'd always been cute, even when they were younger, and he'd watched her grow more attractive every year, but now she was downright bloody _gorgeous,_ and he could barely speak to her anymore without making a fool out of himself.

He didn't even know where this infatuation had come from. Yes, he'd had a crush on her when they were children, but whatever he was feeling now was definitely not just a schoolboy crush. He often found himself lying awake at night, hearing Sirius come in after he was done with whoever he had chosen to shag that week, unable to help himself from thinking if he were the one stumbling into the dorm at ungodly hours of the night after being locked away in a broom cupboard with Piper Everlark.

Remus clutched the quill in his hand tightly, willing away the unbidden images of Piper with his fingers in her mouth as she moaned his name, straddling his lap in an empty classroom, before they could stick in his mind.

 _You're her_ friend, he reminded himself savagely. _And she deserves someone better than a monster in her bed._

"Moony, stop dominating your quill," Sirius deadpanned beside him, ripping Remus out of his thoughts. "It's been screaming its safe word for the last five minutes."

Remus relaxed his grip on his quill, shooting Sirius a dry look. "Better?"

Sirius pretended to listen carefully, lips pursed, before nodding. "The quill says thank you," he said. "It also told me to tell you that it wants to try anal next."

Remus rolled his eyes, letting out a snort and disguising it as a cough when McGonagall glanced warningly in their direction.

"Merlin, Pads, you're a perv," he said, and Sirius grinned.

"What's on your mind, Moony?" he said, plucking Remus's quill out of his hand and twirling it around his fingers.

"Nothing," Remus said. "Give that back; I have to take notes for the both of us, seeing as you're not going to do yours."

"Don't lie to me, Moony," he said, relinquishing his hold on Remus's quill. "I can always tell when you're overthinking something."

"I'm overthinking our Transfiguration homework we have to do tonight," he retorted, rolling his eyes.

There was a sudden scrape of a chair behind them, and Remus looked over his shoulder to see that James had pushed his desk closer to them, glancing between them expectantly. "What are we whispering about?" Peter was now eavesdropping, as well, though not as openly as James, and Remus sighed.

"Nothing, Prongs," he said, at the same time that Sirius whispered, "Moony's brooding again."

Remus shook his head at him, exasperated. "I don't _brood."_

"Yes, you do," James said, dismissing him easily. "Whatcha thinkin' about?"

"How I'm going to jinx you all if you don't stop pestering me."

"Hmm, touchy and moody," said James, scrutinizing him carefully.

"Deflecting questions," added Sirius.

"Growing annoyance and agitation," mused Peter.

"Yep, you've definitely got something on your mind," concluded James.

"Fine, you wankers, I'm worried about Piper," he snapped. It wasn't technically a lie; of course he was worried about her after everything that's happened – they just didn't need to know the nature of what he was thinking about her.

"She's fine, Moony," Sirius said. "We were with her when she got out of the Hospital Wing, and trust me, she was looking for a fight when we went to the Slytherin Common Room—"

James smacked his forehead as Remus whirled on him, confused. _"What?"_

Sirius immediately cowed, looking to James for support. "Er, Prongs and I just happened to be in the area…when she, uh, broke into the Slytherin Common Room to throttle my shit of a little brother…"

"What Sirius is trying to say," James broke in as Remus stared, outraged, "is that Piper asked us to come with her as backup while… Actually, yeah, Sirius has it right about the whole breaking in and throttling thing – except it was more threatening and less throttling—"

"And you thought it was a good idea to let her waltz in there after what Rabastan Lestrange did to her?" Remus demanded. "Do you idiots realize that Lestrange was a _Slytherin,_ and he no doubt has any number of allies in that House who would be happy to continue where he left off on her?"

"She wasn't alone," Sirius said hastily. "We were with her the whole time."

"And is that supposed to make it okay?" he hissed. "After everything that Lestrange did, after all this shit with Aubrey? Do you even care?"

"Of course, we care," Sirius said coldly.

"Piper's a smart girl, Moony," said James defensively. "And she's not a little firsty anymore. In fact, I'd say she's kind of a badass now."

Sirius nodded solemnly. "She's our friend too, you know. And you know better than any of us that what Piper wants, Piper gets."

Remus expelled a long breath. "You're right," he said wearily. "Just…let me know next time, all right?"

James clasped his shoulder from behind. "'Course, Moony."

"And don't worry about Piper," said Sirius. "She's strong."

Remus nodded before going back to his notes. He knew Piper was strong – probably stronger than any of them.

And he also knew that he wouldn't be able to keep his feelings hidden forever when it came to her.

* * *

"Piper, stop sulking. You look fine."

I frowned at myself in the mirror, picking at a loose thread on the dress that consisted of my costume. The dress itself was gorgeous, a gauzy, pale blue number that matched my eyes and left nothing to the imagination, held in place with expensive-looking seashell pins. A crown of roses rested atop my curls, completing the image of the goddess Aphrodite, but I felt nothing like a goddess – even less the goddess of love.

My stomach had been in knots all day, half-anticipating, half-dreading the party, and seeing my reflection in the mirror – a little girl pretending to be a woman, anxious and queasy – was making me rethink everything.

How could Remus fancy someone like me? He was responsible, sensible, and far too kind for his own good, while I was the epitome of screwed up. I'd built myself back up as best I could, but I was still the helpless girl in the library, the broken girl lying in the alleyway of Hogsmeade, the wretched girl who'd torn apart her family, whose brother hated her, who'd started a war with the Marauders because she'd hated them for abandoning her. I was still _Pimply,_ and he was everything good and light in the world, and I was afraid of tainting that – tainting _him._

My ruminations were interrupted when a shoe hit me in the back of the head, skewing my rose crown and ruining the carefully crafted hairstyle I'd labored over for hours (okay, twenty minutes, but still). I turned to see Dorcas, Becca, and Emmeline waiting impatiently for me by the door to our dormitory, and by Becca's bare right foot, I figured she was the one who had chucked her shoe at me.

"What?" I huffed, tilting my crown back in place and fixing my hair as she came over to retrieve her shoe, her green-and-gold dress swishing like swaying grass with every movement, a symbolic costume for Demeter. Our costumes, of course, had been courtesy of Becca's filthy rich mother, who'd immediately sent half her closet to us once Becca had written her about our Greek goddess idea. It explained why I was clothed in fabric I'd never felt before in my life (and probably never would again) and why Becca treated it like it was nothing.

Bloody pure-bloods.

"You're fussing over nothing," Emmeline said. She was dressed in a gown of deep blue and silver plating that looked like armor to represent Athena, and I wondered if I shouldn't ask her to switch costumes – wits and battle strategy were both things I could use tonight. "The party's already started; let's go."

"I'll be down in a moment," I insisted. "Go grab some shots or something. Don't wait on me."

Becca and Emmeline exchanged a look before shrugging and departing the dormitory, but to my resign, Dorcas stayed behind. She was stunning tonight; she'd let her hair down in golden ripples, and the white dress decorated in peacock feathers created a beautiful contrast to her brown skin. She looked every bit of the Queen of the Gods, and it was hard not to imagine her as Hera herself as she came up behind me and put her hands on my shoulders.

"You're anxious," she said, reading me like she always could – or perhaps she just felt the tension in my shoulders. "Is this about Lupin?"

I sighed, dropping the charade now that it was just us. For all our differences, Dorcas had always been my closest friend, and I knew there would be no use in lying to her.

"I can't tell him how I feel," I said, realizing that this was the first time I was admitting my feelings for him out loud. "Dorcas, we just became friends again. I don't want to scare him away."

"Who says he'll be scared?" she countered, running her hands soothingly down my back. "Piper, I've seen the way he looks at you. There's no way he could reject you."

 _He will if he thinks he's a monster,_ I answered in my head. _He will if he's afraid of breaking me any more than I've already been broken._

"He's going to fight once he graduates," I said instead. "He won't want to start anything if he's only going to leave in a few months' time."

"You don't know that," she said. "Maybe that'll just incentivize him to be with you more." When I didn't answer, she sighed, patting my shoulders. "You don't even have to tell him tonight if you don't want to. Just come down when you're ready, all right? Please have some fun. You deserve it."

And with that, she turned and left me at the mirror, still searching for the girl I wanted to be.

* * *

Remus was disappointed – yet again – when he saw Dorcas come down the girls' staircase with no Piper in sight. Emmeline and Becca had joined the party several minutes ago, but Piper was yet to be seen, and he swallowed the bitterness in his mouth along with a shot of firewhiskey.

"Slow down, Moony," said Peter, who was eyeing his friend warily as Remus filled another glass and downed it one gulp. "That's the fourth shot I've seen you take in the last thirty minutes."

"Sod off, Wormtail," he said, his voice raspy from the scorching alcohol he'd just drank. "It's a party; I'm having fun."

Peter held up his hands in defense, the wreath of grapevines on his brow wobbling dangerously from where it sat precariously upon his too-large head. Sirius thought it would be a brilliant idea for them to go as Greek gods, which had resulted in Peter taking on the role of Dionysus while Sirius and James were Zeus and Apollo, respectively. James had tried to wrangle Remus into being either Poseidon or Ares, but Remus had neglected the Greek gods entirely and decided to be Remus, one of the founders of Rome, as a sort of personal joke to himself.

"Damn," Peter said, following Remus's gaze to the staircase Dorcas was descending. "A shame she's into other birds; Meadowes looks fit as hell in that."

"Go drool somewhere else, Pete," Remus said irritably. "Didn't you say you were going to try and shag Susan Crowley tonight, anyway?"

"Right you are, mate," he said cheerfully, grabbing two bottles of butterbeer from the makeshift bar Sirius and James had set up near the windows where Remus was sulking, having a direct line of sight to the girls' staircases. "Wish me luck."

He winked before wading into the growing crowd of partygoers, but Remus's attention was already back at the staircase, wondering where the hell Piper was.

"Mind if I join you?" Sirius said, sidling up next to him and filling his own glass with firewhiskey. "James is caught up with Lily and Marlene keeps trying to corner me for a dance – stubborn woman. I ended things with her weeks ago, how can she not take a hint?"

Remus grunted in lieu of responding, but this seemed acceptable to Sirius, who only tossed back a shot without so much as a grimace. Their little spot was garnering the attention of several people, mostly girls, who were eyeing Sirius appreciatively, but it was small wonder. Sirius had always been the handsomest, and the black sheet he'd decorated with lightning bolts and tied around himself only enhanced his lordly features and toned physique. Remus turned away from the stares, glancing back up to the staircase and choking on his firewhiskey when he saw Piper descending.

He had to do a double-take, for surely the girl he was seeing couldn't be real, but she was, and she was unmistakably Piper. The slip of a dress she wore was the same shade as her eyes, but the material was so light and thin that he could see the color of her skin underneath, and he suddenly felt quite hot when he realized that she had probably forgone underwear to achieve that effect. Her black curls were twisted elegantly down her back and a crown of roses rested on her brow, giving her a heavenly appearance, and what liquid courage he'd had before vanished at the sight of her.

Sirius was staring at her, as well, his expression amused, but there was a look in his eye Remus had seen many times before as he called out to her. "Looks like my wish was granted after all, Everlark!"

Piper looked around, her eyes scanning the crowd before landing on Remus and Sirius by the bar. Remus hastily grabbed a bottle of butterbeer and began drinking it as she approached them, gazing at Sirius wryly.

"Put your eyes back in your sockets, Sirius," she said. "And get me a drink while you're at it. Something strong."

Sirius smirked, busying himself by getting her a drink, and Piper turned to Remus, smiling.

"Let me guess," she said, her stare traveling up and down his body while he did the same to her, his gaze lingering on the area between her stomach and collarbone before he looked away just as she met his eyes. "Either you're a very boring god or not one at all," she concluded, and he chuckled.

"I'm Remus," he admitted, and she laughed.

"Like the founder of Rome?" she asked, and she snorted when he nodded. "Very original."

"I thought so," he said, watching as she accepted the goblet of firewhiskey from Sirius and took a hearty gulp, shuddering at the taste before nodding in approval.

"You ready for a dance, Pipes?" Sirius asked her, and she grinned.

"Only if Remus joins us," she said wickedly, turning to him mischievously. "You in?"

Remus thought to himself that he would gladly do anything for her if she kept looking at him that way, but before he could articulate a reply, she had already swept him off to the area that was serving as a makeshift dance floor, and he only hoped he'd gotten enough to drink as they joined the crowd.

* * *

I felt like I'd been dancing for hours, but in reality, we'd only gotten through four or five songs that had been playing on the wireless. I wasn't nearly as drunk as I wanted to be, but I'd kept dancing for Remus, who was sufficiently buzzed and currently seemed to be having the time of his life.

He and Sirius had dominated the dance floor, jumping around and slamming into each other and singing horribly off-key to every song that came on, but watching them be complete idiots had lightened my mood considerably since I'd joined the party. Dorcas, Becca, Emmeline, Peter, James, Lily, and the other girls had found their way over to us as the music went on, but finally I had to break away from the crowd and stumble to the bar, sweaty and disheveled but happier than I'd been in weeks.

It was wonderful to forget about my train wreck of a life, if only for a little while. I'd kept an eye out for Archie, but I knew it'd be a slim chance of finding him at the party. He'd always been a bit of a recluse, and crowds weren't his thing. I mulled over another glass of firewhiskey, debating if I should slip away upstairs and see if he was hiding in his dorm, but before I could make up my mind Remus was leaning on the bar beside me, reaching for another bottle of butterbeer.

"You good?" I asked him amusedly as he fumbled with the top, but he only shot me a grin that had me pushing away all thoughts of Archie.

"Never been better," he replied. "You?"

I dangled my glass in front of me, letting the firewhiskey slosh against the sides tantalizingly. "A couple more of these bad boys and I reckon I'll feel greater than I ever have."

He threw his head back and laughed, and my eyebrows shot up at how loud it was as several people turned in our direction. I couldn't help smiling though; seeing Remus Lupin tipsy was probably in my top five favorite things of all time list.

"I've missed you, Pipes," he said, slinging an arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his side. My heart skipped several beats at this, but I only smiled up at him indulgently. "Oh?"

He nodded, taking another swig of butterbeer and leaning closer so I could hear him over the music. "Best friends forever," he said solemnly. "That's what we are."

"Uh, yeah." I tried not to read too much into that, but it was hard. "Best friends forever."

He squinted at me, and I suddenly felt awkward under the scrutiny of his stare, chugging some more firewhiskey to escape it.

"You're like a burnt marshmallow, y'know?" he said suddenly. "Unappealing and scary on the outside, but soft and gooey on the inside?"

I stared at him, not knowing whether I should be flattered or offended, or if he was just drunk.

"Well, I'll give you this, Lupin," I said finally, opting for my safest bet of sarcasm and praying he was just joking. "You sure know how to charm the ladies."

He grinned, and a jolt of energy jumped down my spine as I realized this was it. This was the moment I could spill it all to him and put my heart out on the table. I opened my mouth, hoping I wouldn't throw up, as he kept looking at me expectantly.

"Remus, I—"

"OI, MOONY!"

James's shout from the dance floor drowned out my voice, and we both turned to see the bespectacled boy waving at us.

"Get over here!" he called. "Lily's gonna show us this song called Prancing Queen – it's a Muggle thing—"

"It's Dancing Queen, idiot," I muttered under my breath, annoyed that he had interrupted us, but Remus turned back to me excitedly.

"Wanna go?" he said, gesturing to the dance floor, but I shook my head, suddenly not in the mood to dance.

"Trust me, I need a few more drinks in my system before anyone can get me to dance to ABBA," I said, forcing a smile.

He seemed disappointed for a brief moment, but when I blinked, it was gone. He set down his bottle and waded back into the crowd, shouting, "I'll see you later!"

I waved half-heartedly before downing the rest of my firewhiskey, and his butterbeer for good measure. I was just reaching for an unopened bottle of firewhiskey when Sirius materialized before me, his face and exposed chest shining with sweat and lending him an ethereal glow, which I found quite ironic.

"Save some for the rest of us, Pipes," he teased, snagging the bottle from my fingers and opening it with a small _pop._ "There's some thirsty people tonight."

"I'm not drunk enough," I said, holding out my hand expectantly as he poured me another drink and handed me the glass.

He grinned, topping off his own before leaning on the bar next to me. "Funny, that's my motto every day," he quipped.

I didn't answer him, knocking back as much of the firewhiskey as I could without gagging. It was nasty stuff, but it did the job, and I'd rather forget about what I had just tried to tell Remus than sip on butterbeer like some sissy.

"You're awfully quiet tonight," he said, bumping my shoulder with his. "What's wrong?"

"What's _not_ wrong?" I said sarcastically, though my eyes sought Remus in the throng of dancers, finding him dancing with Lily, James, and Marlene McKinnon.

Sirius followed my gaze, and I cringed as his eyes lit up in understanding. "Ah. Trying to gather up the courage to tell our furry friend how you really feel about him?" When I started speaking, he cut me off. "Don't try and deny it, Piper. James told me everything already."

I gave him a disgusted look. "Is there anything you two don't share?"

He sipped from his drink, pondering, before saying, "Girls. Underwear. Shampoo. But that's about it."

I shook my head, glaring down at my drink. "I don't know what I'm doing, Sirius."

"Talk to him," he urged. "Nothing's ever going to happen if you don't tell him how you—"

His last words were drowned out as a rousing cheer came from the dance floor, and we looked to find the absolute last thing I'd ever wanted to see.

Marlene McKinnon was wrapped around Remus, snogging him like her life depended on it while everyone around them cheered and whistled. I tore my eyes away from the dreadful scene, feeling like I'd just been sucker punched. I looked to Sirius, but his expression was stony as he stared at the snogging pair, and a muscle in his jaw was twitching. At my gaze, however, he flicked his eyes back to me, before grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the boys' staircase.

Everyone was too transfixed on Remus and Marlene to pay us any attention, and Sirius practically yanked me up the stairs and through a door until we were standing in the semi-silence of what I presumed to be the Marauders' dormitory. The music sounded half a world away up here, and it wasn't until all the people and noise were removed that I realized I was crying.

"I'm sorry, Piper," Sirius said, looking at me pityingly. "It's my fault you had to see that – I broke things off with Marlene a few weeks ago and this must've been her way of getting back at me – trying to hurt me—" He scoffed, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair in agitation.

"I was going to tell him tonight," I said in disbelief. "I was going to tell him how I felt, Sirius. But he – he kissed her back."

I clamped my mouth shut, knowing if I said anything more I'd probably break down completely. Sirius was upset as he looked back to me, but I realized he was upset for _me,_ not for himself.

I felt strangely empty now, and there was a buzzing in my head that could be contributed to either alcohol or shock at what I'd just witnessed – or both. I shook my head, leaning back against the footboard of one of their beds; most likely Sirius's, going off all the posters of Muggle girls plastered around the headboard.

"Why'd you bring me here?" I asked, tracing my fingers over the scarlet duvet, trying to distract myself from having to think about Remus and Marlene's lips locked together.

He shrugged, coming over and sitting beside me. "It was the first place I could think of to get you away from all that. Sorry; I should've thought this through a bit more."

"You're fine," I said, keeping my eyes on his bed and not letting them stray to the others – to Remus's. "Thank you. For, ah, helping me escape, I guess."

He chuckled softly, patting my knee. "Don't worry about it. Feel free to stay for as long as you'd like."

I didn't answer, suddenly focusing on the hand that was on my knee. The initial shock at what I'd seen was subsiding into anger, a sudden urge to make Remus hurt as badly as I was in that moment. Sirius made to move his hand and stand up, but I reached out and kept him there, the buzzing in my head growing louder and shriller all the while.

He looked down at me, questioning, but when I moved his hand to rest on my thigh, he understood my intentions clearly.

"Piper," he said, clearing his throat. "I don't think…ah…" He trailed off, glancing between my face and my hand doubtfully, but the buzzing continued, drowning out all other thoughts as I pushed his hand higher, his fingers grazing my upper thigh.

"Are you sure?" he said tightly. "After everything…Aubrey…"

"I'm tired," I said, keeping my hand on his and my gaze locked on his face. "I'm tired of being the weak little girl who gets pushed around by other people. I'm tired of seeing myself as a shell of someone I used to know. If this is a step towards reclaiming myself, then so be it."

He licked his lips hesitantly, but I knew I had him hooked, just from the way his eyes roved over me hungrily.

"But Remus—" he said, already leaning closer.

"—Doesn't have to know," I finished for him, before closing the rest of the distance between us.

It was shocking, how easy it was to fall into him. Sirius was solid and sturdy and obviously experienced from the way his lips assumed control over mine, pushing his tongue past them and capturing me in a sweltering wave as he pressed me back onto his bed. I sucked on his tongue when it reentered my mouth, biting down lightly and mentally patting myself on the back when he groaned, digging his hips into mine and filling me with a surge of heat I hadn't experienced in months.

I'd forgotten how good it felt to be touched, when permission was given, when it was consensual, and I clung to him tighter, savoring this feeling, reveling in the notion that this was my body, that this was my choice, that I finally felt in control of myself again. I was no longer spiraling, falling freely through empty air – I was grounded in myself, in the knowledge that I was a real woman, in the sense of self I'd been looking for, _for so long._

Sirius moved from my mouth to my neck, his lips leaving a tingling pattern of warmth as he continued down, between my breasts and over my stomach. The sheer material of my dress meant I could feel his breath on my skin, hot and heavy, as he went further still, and I arched my back as his hands began to push my dress up, his fingers skimming over my calves, my thighs, my bum, until finally his head was between my legs, and I shivered when his breath hit me, for I hadn't bothered to put on panties before the party, thinking I would be in this same position, but with someone else entirely.

When Sirius didn't immediately dive in, I squirmed on the bed, glancing down to him and seeing him staring at me already. His eyes were dark with lust, only making me wetter, but he was looking at me with a strange expression on his face.

"What?" I demanded.

His eyes flicked between mine and the vagina that was quite literally staring him in the face before he let go of my legs and sat back, sighing.

"This is a bad idea, Pipes," he said, shaking his head. "It's not right. I won't do anything with you when you still have feelings for Remus. He's our friend, no matter how stupid he is sometimes."

I scrambled into a sitting position, yanking my dress back down and glaring at him, but he continued before I could say anything.

"I won't let you use me to give you another reason to hate yourself – trust me, I know how that feels," he said, chuckling darkly, and I gaped at him, feeling like I'd been punched in the gut for the second time that night. "You're strong, Piper. You'll find a way to overcome all that's happened. You always do." He smiled sadly. "I'm not the one you need, much less want."

He slipped off the bed while I stared at him, stunned into silence. He opened his trunk and grabbed something out of it before tossing it to me. I caught it, dazed, and unfolded it to reveal an old Pink Floyd shirt.

"You can sleep in here tonight," he said, shutting his trunk and seemingly unfazed that moments ago he had been ready to eat me out. "I'll try to keep everyone from bothering you, so you can have some time to think."

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Back to the party." He smirked at me. "Sorry, Pipes; as much as I'd have loved to, I'm loyal to Remus first. Plus, I'd hate to steal you away from him – women tend to fall for me once they've experienced a night in bed with me, and we can't have that."

He winked, and just like that, he was gone, leaving me alone in the Marauders' dormitory.

I sat for a long time before even attempting to move, and when I did, it felt like I was in someone else's skin. I shed the crown and dress and pulled on Sirius's shirt before crawling under his sheets, bewildered by everything that had happened in the last thirty minutes. I almost fucked Sirius Black. I'd been willing to sleep with him because Remus had snogged another girl, and suddenly I was disgusted with myself. Not only did I not see Sirius in that way at all, but I'd let Remus get to my head when I shouldn't have. I was Piper fucking Everlark. I did not pine after men, and I most certainly did not sleep with my crush's best friend like some petty bitch because I hadn't gotten what I wanted.

If Remus didn't want me, that was fine. But Merlin smite me on the spot if I ever degraded myself like that again.

It was a good thought process, in my opinion, but it still didn't keep me from bawling myself to sleep that night.

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 **Please review! I'd love to hear your thoughts!**

 **I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Piper is probably my favorite OC I've written so far, and getting to explore her journey - internally and externally, in her interactions with the other characters - is something I don't take lightly. This is her story, after all, and staying true to her character is my first and foremost goal in writing it.**

 **xx**


	18. I Have an Intervention

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **Several other disclaimers regarding this chapter:**

 **1) This is probably the fluffiest thing I have written to date.**

 **2) I don't know anything about cameras/photography, so please don't come for me.**

 **3) I realize that Muggle technology doesn't work at Hogwarts, but at the rate JKR is going in regards to canon, I am electing to ignore this.**

 **Thank you for all the new favorites/follows, and a HUGE thank you to my reviewers from last time (and I'm so sorry for not getting to all of you personally, but life, ya know?): Epochs, Ashies, wickedgrl123, KayMist, ScarofSun, AshleyMarieD, kiwihalloween10, Zstar1, LadyFlorentine, elleisforlovee, xmusecliox, paracosms, EraSwap, akagami hime chan, Gin-Tonic13, SiriusSpiritus, Bluebird (Guest), Guest 1, and Guest 2!**

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Chapter Eighteen: I Have an Intervention

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty."

I cracked open my eyes, forcing my eyelashes apart where my mascara from the night before had glued them together. Sirius was sitting on the edge of my bed – no, wait, _his_ bed – smiling like a cookie-cutter mother who had just finished making pancakes for her children.

"You're not a prince," I said stupidly, and he grinned.

"Correct," he said. "I am a _god,_ and you should address me as such."

I addressed him by shoving my middle finger in his face.

He chuckled, brushing my finger aside before gazing back to me cheerfully. "So, how'd you sleep?"

 _Horribly_ , is what I wanted to say. I'd cried for a solid twenty minutes before passing out cold, the alcohol and the depression finally catching up to me, and my dreams had been plagued by images of Remus and Marlene passionately snogging. I'd hoped that that was all it was – a dream – but waking up in Sirius's bed was only confirmation that everything that had happened had been dreadfully real.

"Fine," I said instead, but I knew from the way he looked at me that he knew I was lying. "You got any water around here? I'm fucking thirsty."

"You're dehydrated," he said knowingly, standing up and going over to the pitcher of water on the other side of the room and pouring me a glass.

"And you're not hungover," I noted as he handed me the glass. "How the hell did you manage that? We were shot-for-shot on the firewhiskey."

"I sobered up before I went to bed," he said, shrugging, and it disgusted me how unruffled and cool he was after the disaster of last night as I ran my fingers over his duvet.

Now that I was awake and functioning, every memory from the night before was creeping up on me, and I wanted nothing more than to pull the covers over my head and remain there for the rest of the century. It didn't help that Sirius was watching me with a knowing twinkle in his eyes, as well, and I could feel heat rising to my face when I flashed back to how those eyes had looked when he'd been about to bury his face in between my legs. I took a hasty gulp of water, tugging on the collar of his shirt I wore, and he smirked, as if sensing my thoughts.

"Where are the others?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral, but all I really wanted was to know where Remus was, so I could slap some sense into the bloke. I mean, really? Marlene McKinnon? Granted, she'd only done it to get back at Sirius, but still. She chose the wrong rebound.

"Passed out in the common room still," he said, shrugging. "I let Prongs and Moony be, but I couldn't resist drawing a pecker on Wormtail's face. Don't tell him it was me, though."

I cracked a smile at that. "Where'd you sleep, then?" He grinned, waggling his eyebrows, and I gaped at him. "Hold on – are you saying that you _slept with someone?_ After—" I shut my mouth, not wanting to bring up our previous activities from the night before, and I'd never seen someone look so gloating before as he positively beamed at me.

"You should be thanking me," he said. "I shagged Marlene to keep her away from Remus, and so you wouldn't rip her head off. She's insane, that one, but I'd like her to remain in one piece."

I stared, unblinking. "You did that? For me?"

He shrugged indifferently, but he looked uncomfortable when he glanced away briefly. "What can I say? I'm a fan of drama, but even last night was too much for me."

"Sirius…" I trailed off, not knowing what to say. For years he'd hated my guts, and now he was helping me? Our relationship had evolved so much it was giving me whiplash, but suddenly I was entirely grateful for Sirius Black.

"Thank you," I said earnestly. "But, Sirius… I don't want you to get tangled back up with Marlene just for my sake. If she doesn't make you happy, then you shouldn't stay with her."

He scratched the back of his neck, his expression awkward, and I bit my lip, tapping my fingernail against the glass I still held.

"Love should make you feel good," I continued. I had no idea what compelled me to keep speaking, but the words kept coming out. "It shouldn't be a chore, or forced. And maybe Marlene was good for a fun couple of hook ups, but it sounds like she's not good for you and how much you love."

I stopped, embarrassed. It seemed like all I ever did around Sirius anymore was ramble and make a fool out of myself, but when he sighed deeply, I looked up from my observation of the duvet.

"You're right," he said, frowning. "I like Marlene, but I don't…love her. At least not in that way." He raised a brow at me. "Any more wisdom from _Witch Weekly_ 's advice column?"

"Piss off," I said, though I couldn't help laughing.

He jerked his head toward the door. "I'm gonna start cleaning up down there. Place is a mess. I'll be up in a few, though; I think we still got some firewhiskey I can store."

I nodded, waving as he exited the dormitory. I drained the rest of my water and went to fill up my glass again, parched. I was still wearing nothing but Sirius's shirt, and downstairs was a bit breezy, if you know what I mean. I kicked open his trunk and rifled through it until I found a pair of (hopefully) clean boxers and put them on. The waistline was huge, and I had to roll them a few times to get them to fit, but I was impressed with my ingenuity as I heard the door open behind me. Thinking it was Sirius, I twirled to show him my new look, but I froze, my smile crumbling when I saw Remus, bleary-eyed and disheveled, standing there instead.

"Piper?" he mumbled, squinting at me through bloodshot green eyes. "What are you doing here?"

His gaze traveled from me, obviously wearing Sirius's clothes, to the bed beyond, with its rumpled sheets and my discarded costume at the foot of it. He seemed to be processing everything at half his normal speed, and watching his face go from muddled confusion to stony blankness stretched for an agonizing eternity. I opened my mouth to speak, but when his eyes snapped back to mine, now sharp and cutting, I lost my courage, cowering when he said crisply, "I see."

Before I could even think of what to say, he turned on his heel, about to leave, when Sirius popped up behind him, barring his escape down the staircase.

"Oh, good, you're up!" he said brightly, either ignoring or unnoticing of Remus's sudden tension. "You two have a lot to talk about."

He pointed to me and Remus, but Remus snapped, "There's nothing to talk about."

"Mmm, yes, there is," said Sirius, "because I'm forcing you into an intervention. Have fun!"

And with that, he shoved Remus into the dormitory, sending him stumbling back, before slamming the door on us. I heard the lock click, but when Remus managed to pull out his wand and mutter, _"Alohomora,"_ it stayed stubbornly in place, and he cursed. "He made the fucking thing Imperturbable."

He ran a hand through his messy hair, sighing deeply out his nose in frustration before pocketing his wand. I was still standing there, mute and wide-eyed, when he finally turned to me with a scowl.

"So," he said evenly. "You and Sirius?"

I shook my head, and his eyebrows rose disbelievingly.

"Nothing happened," I managed to say. "Er, I mean – it almost did, but then it didn't…" I trailed off when he snorted, turning away, but his dismissal was like a slap to the face, knocking me out of the daze I'd been swimming in. "What? Are you mad?"

"No," he said, but he was lying. I could always tell when he was. This realization – that he was mad over me potentially sleeping with Sirius – awakened something in me, a little seedling of hope that I'd tried to bury last night – but I forced myself to focus on the situation at hand.

"Yes, you are," I said. "Why?"

"We're all friends again," he said, still not looking at me, "and I don't want him messing things up now that we're all on good terms."

Okay, valid. But he specifically said Sirius would mess things up. Why not me?

"Except nothing happened," I pointed out. "It could have, but it didn't." I scoffed. "Besides, he shacked up with Marlene again last night once you were done with her."

His face colored, and he looked at me as if I'd struck him. "I wasn't – we didn't – it was just a kiss!"

My gut twisted angrily at the reminder, and I fought to keep my hands from curling into fists. "And that's all it was between Sirius and I, too. So _don't_ come in here acting like you're the only one who gets to be angry."

He paused, confused, and I internally winced at my mistake. Fuck. I hadn't meant to tell him that I was angry about Marlene – that would lead to questions, questions that I wasn't ready to answer right now.

"Why would you be angry at Marlene?"

 _Fuck._ "Because she was only using you to get back at Sirius. That's a pretty shitty thing to do to someone." _Okay, okay, nice save, Everlark._

"Oh." He blinked, his expression inscrutable. "Yeah, er, that is." He cleared his throat, rubbing a hand over his hair again and making it stand up, and suddenly I wished that were my hand instead of his. "But Marlene and I… Yeah, no, that's not – we're not – I don't want…anything with her."

His face flushed pink as he said it, and it was almost enough to break me down and confess everything to him now that I knew she wasn't a threat, that he didn't feel anything for her, but I held my tongue, my fear of him rejecting _me_ hovering just in my peripheral.

"Cool." I forced myself to nod, trying not to let on to how pleased I was by this turn of events. "That's…cool."

He nodded, trying the doorknob once more and finding it still locked. "Dammit." He pounded his fist on the door. "Sirius, take the spell off! We're done having your stupid intervention!"

But when nothing happened, he sighed, hitting his head dully against the wood. "Either he forgot about us, or he's doing this just to torture us."

"Knowing him, he probably did it to torture us, and then really did forget about us," I said, and he turned back to me, grinning slightly.

"Well," he said, "since we're trapped here, we might as well clean up after last night."

He gestured to his rumpled hair and stained toga that looked like someone had dumped a pitcher of butterbeer down the front of it, and though he was too polite to ever say anything, I knew he was also referring to my smudged makeup and wild hair. "Wanna shower first?"

"Please," I said, hopping up from where I'd been leaning against Sirius's footboard.

Remus nodded, leading me into the washroom and pointing out where the towels and things were while discreetly kicking dirty knickers and socks under the sinks. There were two showers side-by-side, and I secretly hoped he'd take the other one, but he only smiled and left, shutting the door behind him while I switched on the shower, disappointed.

The water felt amazing, and it was nice to feel all my makeup slough off and get rid of the sweat and odor from the night before. It also cleared my head, and I took ten deep breaths to ground myself again, letting go of all the anger and jealousy that I'd felt before my talk with Remus. I knew I was being deliberately ignorant regarding my feelings towards him, but as I let the water run down my face and shoulders, I thought, _Tonight. I'll tell him tonight, consequences be damned._

I stood under the water with my eyes closed, wondering what it would be like to have him there with me. I'd broken through a barrier last night with Sirius, a wall of glass that had shattered and loosed all my repressed emotions, and I'd realized that I'd _wanted_ to be intimate again. I'd gone months without intimacy, terrified at every touch, every gesture – it was like all my wants and needs had been frozen under the surface of a very wide lake, inaccessible and unattainable. I hadn't even been able to touch _myself_ without thinking of Aubrey and that fucking library.

And now that I knew what it was like to be intimate again, to have that consensual passion…I _wanted_ it. And I wanted Remus to be the one to give it to me.

There was a knock on the door, and my eyes snapped open again.

"Pipes?" Remus called. "You almost done? I swear if you took all the hot water—"

"I haven't, you crybaby," I said, rolling my eyes and shutting off the shower. Good grief, he was worse than Archie.

I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in a towel, letting my hair be for the moment until I could use my wand to dry it. I grabbed Sirius's clothes, about to put them on, before I paused, a sudden idea making my face light up with mischief.

Ditching Sirius's shirt and boxers and adjusting my towel so it sat lower on my chest, I arranged my features into casual elegance and breezed out of the washroom, letting the steam follow me out.

Remus had been rummaging through his trunk for something, but at the sound of the door opening he straightened up and turned toward me, his face coloring a lovely shade of red when he realized I was clad in nothing but a rather short towel. His eyes darted to my chest before they went to anywhere but at me, and I smirked when his throat bobbed with a heavy swallow.

"All yours," I said sweetly. "And do you have something I could wear? I'm not particularly keen on wearing boxers that aren't mine."

"Uh, yeah, here," he said, practically flinging a sweater and pajama pants at me. "I'll, uh—" He gestured to the washroom before striding in and shutting the door behind him, leaving me alone to change as the shower turned on again.

I could imagine Dorcas shaking her head in mock disgust as I dressed, clucking her tongue as she said to me, _"Piper the Viper strikes again."_

It was true; I wouldn't deny that I was still a skilled player when it came to the art of seduction – honestly, the only person who could rival me was Sirius. And while I had enjoyed watching Remus turn redder than a Gryffindor banner at a Quidditch match, I wondered if I was trying to be _too_ seductive. Obviously, I wanted to sleep with him at some point, but these annoying feelings extended far beyond simple lust. Emmeline and Becca had said it's apparent that Remus liked me back, but to what measure? I wasn't blind; I could tell he was attracted to me, especially after that hair stunt earlier this week, but was there _anything_ else?

 _Christ, you're getting annoying,_ I thought in disgust. _Save the monologue for the play, Pipes._

By the time my hair was dry, and I was comfortably wearing Remus's clothes (definitely _not_ sniffing them creepily every five seconds), he was already done showering, and I lounged back on his bed, pulling a stray quill out from underneath me and tossing it on his nightstand. Remus wasn't a messy person, but he was certainly cluttered, and it took me several minutes to get everything out from under my arse, so I could sit in peace.

I toyed with a replica Sneakoscope I'd found on his nightstand, so absorbed in turning all the little knobs that I hadn't even realized Remus had taken a leaf out of my own book until he stood at the foot of his bed, grabbing clothes out of his trunk.

"Hey, where'd you get this?" I asked, still not paying attention to the glorious sight awaiting me. "It's fucking cool— _Holy shit where are your clothes?"_

My voice had turned into a strangled yelp by the end, and Remus bent down, smug, to pull a shirt from his trunk.

"Well, Pipes," he said, shrugging, "I figured two could play at this game."

Flirting. That was my first thought. Remus Lupin was bloody _flirting_ with me. But…why? I was dead, right? I'd _never_ seen him flirt. That was Sirius's thing. The Remus Lupin I knew aged twelve was too shy for such things.

But this wasn't little second-year Remus, I reminded myself. This was seventh-year Marauder Remus Lupin, who'd grown up in James and Sirius's spotlight, not their shadow – and he knew exactly what he was doing, the smug bastard. He was playing me at my own game.

I leaned back against his pillows, kicking my leg up over my knee and forcing myself to look bored, despite the tingling heat that had started up whenever I'd realized he was just in a towel.

"Two can play," I drawled, "but only one can win. And I have to say, I'm not that impressed."

Which, of course, was an absolute lie. He looked bloody _fantastic._ Though he was leaner than both James and Sirius, he still had the physique of an athlete (which I had to ask him about – I knew he didn't play Quidditch, so he had to have some secret that had granted him the body of a Greek hero – a secret that I desperately needed for myself), and it seemed that he'd finally grown into all his gangly limbs, for the bloke before me looked more man than boy. His skin still had a slight tan that had yet to fade, making his muscles more pronounced, but also his scars.

He didn't have nearly as much as I thought he would, but I could see the faint white lines, the nicks and the cuts and the scratches and the bites he'd sustained over the years from his transformations, etched lightly into his skin. The only one that looked truly bad sat above his left hip, a puckered pink thing that looked newer than the others, probably only a couple months old.

Remus's smirk faded when he followed my gaze, his mouth pulling into a grimace as he turned quickly away, about to head into the washroom. Before he could flee, though, I reached out and grabbed his wrist, feeling his (quite lovely) muscles tense beneath my touch.

"Whoa, hey," I said, tugging on his arm until he turned to face me completely again. "You didn't think I'd just ignore this, right?" I pointed to the scar. "What happened?"

"Moony," he said stiffly, not meeting my eyes. "Just like all the others."

I frowned. "This one's bigger, though."

"Because _he's_ bigger." His voice was bitter, and my brows scrunched in confusion, silently urging him to continue, and he did. "When I was younger…I bit and scratched myself whenever I was _him._ I told you about the Shrieking Shack – where I went to transform. I knew that isolating myself in there would keep me from going out and attacking anything, but it drove the wolf mad. Eventually, I learned to control it when…"

He trailed off, suddenly looking extremely guilty. "It's not my place to say."

"What?"

He shook his head. "Listen, Pipes, I'd tell you, but… I need to speak to the others about it first."

"The others." I sat, stumped. "James, Sirius, and Peter?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

I shrugged. "Okay." He could keep his secrets for the time being. I gestured to his scar again. "That still doesn't explain _this."_

"I told you," he said, now mildly uncomfortable. "The wolf is bigger."

Coupled with that, I remembered something he'd told me in the Hospital Wing a few weeks ago, about how the wolf thinks differently from a human, and thus can't handle complex human emotions, which makes him go wild, in Remus's own words. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks, and I looked up to him, aghast.

"Moony did this?" I whispered. My fingers hovered just above the scar, wanting to touch it, but afraid at the same time. "Because of me?"

Remus blinked, opening his mouth to deny it, but I shook my head angrily. "And _don't_ lie to me. You told me yourself your last transformation was rough because you were worried about me."

Tears stung my eyes, and suddenly I felt incredibly guilty. This had happened because of _me._ But I couldn't stop the little hopeful voice in my head, the one that whispered, _Because he cares._

Of course, he cares, I told the stupid voice. We were friends, and friends worried about each other.

When he didn't say anything, I brushed my fingers lightly over the scar, feeling the bumpy, raised skin beneath my fingers, warm and oddly soft. In any other situation, I probably would've been soaking wet, having a half-naked Remus Lupin standing before me as my hand hovered just above the edge of his towel, tracing the scar, but all I could feel was a sort of hollow sorrow that comes from an inexpressible amount of guilt.

"Piper," Remus said gently, wrapping his hand around my fingers and drawing them away from his scar. I looked up, and his expression was strange; like a hundred different emotions were battling for dominance on his face, in his eyes. "It's not your fault. I promise."

"But everything is, isn't it?" I said, my voice oddly choked. "Everything bad that's happened is because of _me._ Because of who I am."

I flung his hand aside, suddenly angry. I couldn't sit still; I got up from the bed and began pacing, my hair streaming behind me each time I changed direction.

"I keep making all these bad decisions," I continued bitterly. "Things I _know_ will end terribly, but I do them anyway. Why?" I shook my head. "I just can't stop. And it's ruining my life. Everything I touch breaks, and everything I try to make better just ends up worse. Just look at Archie!"

"Hey, we talked about this, Piper," said Remus. "Archie is _not_ your fault. And neither is me hurting myself."

I pressed my lips together, shaking my head quickly. "You're just saying that because you're my friend."

"I'm being honest," he said, frowning. "If I was lying to you about this, then that would make me a pretty horrible friend."

 _He's right,_ I thought miserably. _Dammit, Piper, get a grip and quit throwing yourself a pity party!_

I must've had the stubborn look on my face, the one that told him I wasn't going to let this go so easily, because he suddenly crossed over to his trunk and dug through its contents for a moment until he finally extracted whatever it was he'd been looking for.

"Here," he said, holding out a large, leather-bound book to me. "Maybe this'll help you feel better."

I took it skeptically, running my fingers over the worn brown cover. In chipped golden lettering, Remus's name stood out on the front: _R.J. Lupin._ There was something familiar about the book, and I opened it warily, my jaw dropping when I saw the moving pictures on the inside.

"No way," I breathed, looking up to him with wide eyes. "You _kept_ this? After all this time?"

He smiled sheepishly, pushing a few strands of wet hair off his forehead, and at any other moment I would've said _to hell with it_ and snogged him right there, but the book in my hands was too important, too _sacred_ to cast aside just now.

"Give me a moment," he said. "Let me get dressed and we'll look through it together. It's been ages since I've gone through any of the early stuff."

I could only nod, sitting back on his bed as my eyes drank in the pictures – snapshots of memories, of our childhoods, captured forever in both wizarding pictures and Muggle Polaroids. I couldn't believe he'd kept the scrapbook all these years. I thought for sure he would've torched it as soon as I stopped being friends with the Marauders, but here it was, solid and whole in my hands.

Remus emerged from the washroom, fully clothed, and plopped down beside me on his bed, keeping a respectable distance between us. I had already skimmed through the first few pages, smiling softly at pictures of a young Remus with his parents, and I had just reached his first year at Hogwarts when he joined me in perusing the pages.

"I forgot you had a gap between your front teeth when you were younger," I said, pointing to a moving picture that featured Remus about to board the Hogwarts Express for the first time, smiling nervously at the camera and shifting from foot-to-foot, already dressed in his black robes.

He chuckled. "It made me look like a beaver. I hated it!"

"Maybe you aren't a werewolf after all," I joked, "just a really large, hairy, ferocious beaver—"

My joke earned me a smack across the face with a pillow, and I fell back, laughing, as he shook his head in exasperation at me.

"Insufferable," he muttered fondly under his breath. He took the book from me and flicked through a few more pages until we reached second year, and he let out a triumphant laugh, gesturing to one of the pictures. "I knew I kept these pictures. Take a look."

I grabbed the book back and choked in disbelief when I saw little eleven-year-old me, all freckles and goofy grins and my bangs dyed that atrocious shade of red, captured in a Muggle picture where I stood between Peter and James, both of whom were standing solemnly as if getting their portrait painted while I waved frantically at the camera, my hand a blur. I groaned.

"Burn it," I said. "Please, I'm begging you. These should never see the light of day again."

"Aw, c'mon," Remus said, tugging the book back from me when I twirled my wand contemplatively. "You were a cute kid, Pipes."

We seemed to realize what he said at the same moment, for I looked away awkwardly while he coughed into his sleeve, his face a faint pink. It was quickly forgotten, however, when I spotted a certain picture and yanked the book back with a cackle.

"I remember this!" I said. The picture was another wizarding one, and featured all four Marauders and me standing by the edge of the Black Lake. I couldn't recall who we had asked to take our picture together, but I would never forget the look on Sirius's face after I had pushed him into the lake, captured forever in this photograph. "Sirius was _so_ pissed at me. He didn't talk to me for a week!"

We continued like that for several minutes, pointing out various photographs and having a laugh over them, but suddenly the pictures with me in them disappeared entirely, to be replaced by ones that only contained the Marauders, and later, began incorporating Lily, Marlene, and the other seventh-year girls – at parties, at Quidditch matches, at meals. I fell silent as Remus continued thumbing through the pages, keeping up lively commentary, but he seemed to notice that my heart wasn't in it anymore after I failed to laugh at something he said.

"You all right?" he said, concerned.

I suddenly felt like such an idiot, not wanting to voice the reason why I had gone quiet. After all, what had I expected? Obviously, I wouldn't be in any more pictures after his second year; I had left them for other friends, better friends than they were back then. I shouldn't be upset at him for moving on and continuing to live his life without me in it, but I was. I'd missed out on so much, so many years we could've had together to fill these pages with more memories of our friendship, and maybe even more. I'd lost more than a friend when I ditched Remus so long ago; I'd lost time, and with it, a potential relationship that would never be. And now I'd never get that, once he graduated in a few months and went off to fight in a war.

"I'm sorry," I blurted. "I should've stayed friends with you – I didn't have to cut you out of my life. You didn't deserve my hatred – I could've just stayed, and told James and Sirius off for bullying – I shouldn't have called you a coward—"

I was rambling now, trying to keep from crying, and it wasn't until Remus wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his shoulder, my voice muffled against his sleeve, that I stopped babbling and let the tears come. One of his hands rubbed soothing circles on my back while the other rested against the back of my neck, holding me to him, and I wished I wasn't bawling like a pathetic baby, so I could enjoy this more, but the remorse of years of grudges and regrets was a hard thing to shake.

"You have nothing to apologize for," he said fiercely. "You did the right thing. I – I wished I could've stood up to James and Sirius the way you did. I _was_ a coward, Piper. Don't be upset for stating the truth."

"I should've been the bigger person," I blubbered. "I didn't have to prank you lot, or call you ugly names, or jinx you for no reason—"

He laughed lightly. "Pipes, even you don't think that's true. We were berks, and we deserved to be knocked down a few pegs."

I sniffed. "Not all the time. Just every once in a while."

He laughed again, and I drew back, wiping my eyes and suddenly missing his warmth. "Ugh," I groaned. "If I start crying again today, just punch me in the face next time, all right? I'm sick of it."

"Deal." He nodded, before flipping to the end of the bed to dig through his trunk yet again as I watched, struggling not to stare at his arse the whole time. "A-ha!"

He flung himself beside me on the pillows again, grinning at me mischievously before there was a flash of light, and I blinked, dumbfounded, until I saw the developing photograph being spit out of his Muggle camera. "Remus, no! I look awful!"

"You look fine," he said, taking out the picture and flapping it a few times before handing it to me. "See?"

I looked like an angry chihuahua, but I didn't say that, only wrangling the camera out of his hands and snapping a photo of my own in retaliation.

"Miss Everlark," he said, aghast. "Are you trying to initiate a camera war?"

"Why, yes, Mr. Lupin," I said, holding the camera out of his reach as he lunged for it, "I think I am!"

He wrestled me for the camera, but when I wouldn't relinquish my hold, he began tickling my sides, pinning my legs down when I tried to kick at him as I squirmed, shrieking with laughter. He managed to get the camera back, sitting back on his heels as I sat up, laughing, the light flashing right when I did. We waited for the photo to develop as we caught our breath, and when it was finished he examined it, an odd look on his face.

"How bad?" I asked, still panting slightly.

"Not bad at all," he said quietly, showing it to me, and I was surprised to find that he was right. He had caught me mid-laugh, my hair disheveled artfully around my shoulders while my eyes were squinted shut, my mouth wide open in mirth in a flushed face. It was blurry at the edges, and my mouth was a little too big, in my opinion, but it was the first time I had seen myself look so…happy.

Swallowing down the sudden lump in my throat, I grabbed the camera from Remus's slack hands and grinned softly, saying, "My turn."

He looked away in embarrassment at the last second, but when the photograph was done I stared at it as if it were the most astonishing thing I'd ever seen. The light had captured him perfectly, all tousled hair that had turned gold from the sun's rays shining in through the window behind him and pale green eyes, his expression sheepish but relaxed, so open it made my heart soar to see it. He was so beautiful, I realized then, and he didn't even know it. He didn't think he could be, but I saw it.

"Can I keep this?" I asked, my voice soft as I waved the photograph at him. "I like it."

He seemed surprised, but he nodded. "Yeah, 'course. Can I, er, keep yours too?"

I smiled. "Yes."

He grabbed a quill from his bedside table and offered it to me as we exchanged photographs, saying to my questioning look, "We should date them. You know, to remember when we took them."

I accepted the quill and wrote _1 November 1977_ on the back of my picture of Remus, and when he wasn't looking, I scribbled, _The moment I realized_ underneath the date, just to remind myself in the future. He took the quill from me and wrote his own thing, and we were silent for a few moments until he spoke.

"My mum still asks about you, y'know." He grinned at my wide-eyed expression. "She always told me we'd find a way to be friends again. She believes that certain people come into our lives and always find a way to stay there, no matter the odds. Like fate."

"I believe that, too," I said, my voice oddly choked, and he looked at me, his eyes indecipherable as he nodded. "So do I."

This was it, I realized. This was the perfect time to tell him how I felt. I would never get such a brilliant opportunity again. And the way he was looking at me – oh, _fuck…_

"Remus—"

"Piper—"

"Why the _fuck_ is the door locked?"

Remus and I both started as the dormitory door suddenly blasted open, revealing a haggard and annoyed James as he stumbled inside, peering at us blearily behind his spectacles.

"Oh," he said stupidly. "Was I interrupting something?"

Well, that was it, I decided.

I was going to kill James Potter.

* * *

 **Please review! Your responses last chapter were incredible, and I'd love to hear more from you all!**

 **Considering the end of this chapter, I have aptly named the next one, _James Potter Must Die._**

 **xx**


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